The Fall From Grace
by Konshiro Crobrasha
Summary: Out of every realm of possibility, there is always at least one that depicts a grim future. This is one such story. It shows how no one is exempt from the unjust grasp of misery. But after a fate worse than death, this fallen hero will return. His thirst for blood can only be matched by his brutality. There will be no survivors. The cover art is credited to MechaG11 on Deviantart.
1. The Fall

**Hi everyone, it's Konshiro Crobrasha he** **re with another story. As you can tell, this ones going to be a bit different than what I normally do. Actually, it's a lot different. Where I usually like to make our Fearless Leader an upcoming hero of justice, this story is going to revolve around Jaune as he comes back from an unjust sentence with a vengeance. I am going to be bashing near every single one of the characters in this story. despite being primarily being in that of the RWBY-verse, there will be a few sprinkles of something else i have in mind throughout this story. If you don't like the idea of most of the main cast being bludgeoned with their own arm, or the thought of them getting seriously mangled beyond repair, then i will advise you to leave. This story is going to depict gore, and violence. Now with the formalities out of the way, let's get right into the action.**

* * *

"W-what?" Jaune stuttered. He was currently in an orange jumpsuit with cuffs around his wrists and ankles. Before him was the judge who had told him something that he never wanted to hear in his upcoming career as a Huntsmen. He was pale as a sheet. Never before has he been so scared in his life. Here in court being accused of, well...

"You Jaune Arc are found guilty of the murder of councilwoman Claire Lebeau in the first degree. Under the charges of Political Assassination, Rape and blackmail, your sentence should be death." The judge started, making the teen pale even more. He was just thrust into this trial without even knowing what he was being accused of! He was just on his way back to the dorms when these two police officers came up to him and told him that he was under arrest and _then_ he thrown into a jail cell, the officers told him that he was to stay there until his trial.

When he asked why he was even there in the first place, he was laughed at. The confusion he had had been at it's peak. He was starting to become agitated when he asked again. However, this time, they stopped to look at him, as if he had grown a second head. They had tried to wave him off as some low-life that was trying to weasel themselves out of trouble. He had been fed up with the mystery and confusion of the situation and tried to flare his Aura up. When nothing happened, he realized that he had been cuffed with Aura suppression cuffs. He still banged his fists against the jail bars, demanding what he was in there for. That proved to be a mistake as the guards felt that they were being 'threatened' and proceeded to beat him unconscious. When he came too, he had been told that they were going to transfer him to the courtroom. When asked where his one phone call was, they sneered at him. For some reason, he had been out cold for a bit over three days. On his way over to the police van, he saw a box labeled 'Benzodiazepines'. He recognized them as the same pills that professor Peach had taught them about in a lecture before. She taught them that sometimes, a Hunter would need to be subdued if they were to have a psychotic break and go on a rampage. They were essentially sleeping pills. Though, in some instances, they could be used as sedatives to keep a person unconscious. It would seem that he had been drugged so that he couldn't make his phone call.

He had been lead to the caravan to be transferred to the courthouse. From there, he had been put on trial for a crime that he was sure that he hadn't committed. There had been witnesses that were brought to the stand. Some of them were random people that he hadn't seen, but they all seemed to be saying things that had sounded rehearsed. He had found this fishy already, when he knew that he had been drugged, but now, he knew for a fact that someone was trying to sabotage him. But he had no reason to worry, right? He had his family! While his father was sort of a douche, he still stuck up for family, right?

 _"I can't believe you would do this. You are no son of mine. First you try to be something you're not, then you steal the family treasure. And now this? I should have banished you from the Arc family when I had the chance. You have always been a burden to this family."_

...You know what? Screw him. He was an asshole anyway. Surely his mother would say better things about him. After all, a mother's love for their child was infinite. Even if she had eight children, she still believed him. She had to.

 _"I...cant. Honey, why would you...why?"_

...That...that was still fine. His mom...wasn't there all that often anyway. She...was more concerned for his sisters anyway. She hardly ever did anything for him. In fact, now that he thought about it, she only ever did things for his sister. They got all of her attention...his sisters! Of course! They would vouch for him, right? He loved them with all of his heart. They spent time with him. they played with him. They even consoled him when he was feeling particularly terrible that day. So there. Case closed!

 _"We always tried to stick up for you. No matter how pathetic you were. But you've gone too far now, Jaune. We cant have a brother that is willing to go that far."_

.

..

...

This was still... _fine_. His blood family didn't believe him. That was okay. Even through all that, he would still keep his head tall. So what if they tossed him to the side? He had been making it just fine without them. He had gotten into Beacon dammit! He belonged somewhere! And speaking of which, there _are_ people that still believed him him. There was Ruby! His first friend! They had gone on so many adventures together as leaders. He was sure that she would tell everyone that he was innocent! She knew what was right and what was wrong, so she would be able to tell everyone that he had been training with Pyrrha around the same time that the crime happened. Plus, she saw him heading back to the dorms with his partner for Pete's sake! For as long as he's known her, Ruby's moral compass was as uncanny as her eyesight. She had his back.

 _"Y-yeah, I think I even saw him trying to take my weapon to do something. And my eyes are never wrong. I...I bet he was going to try and use it to kill the Councilwoman. I cant even believe he could even do such a thing to one of the Council members. The Idea of him doing that to her...I wonder if he would have done the same to me. I used to think that he was a good guy, but I guess he was just a wolf in sheep's clothing. I hope he gets what he deserves!"_

...Ruby, WHAT THE HELL! He was just...no. He needed to keep his composure. Ruby just had a misconstrued view on things. She always did see the world in black and white. She never considered that there might be a median. Yet still, she should know him by now! He was Jaune Arc! The blonde goof who can't even hold his lunch for a five minute Bullhead ride! In any case, there was the rest of her team that he could count on. Yang may be irresponsible at times, but she knew when to be serious. She was a big sister after all. She had to be at least somewhat mature.

 _"Somehow, I always knew that Vomit-boy would do something like this. He was never good news for us. From the moment I saw him I knew that he was going to try something fishy with my sister. The guy is a creep."_

Yang you FUCKING... _deep breaths, It's not worth it._ If Ruby was anything to go by, he should have seen this coming. Those two could go screw off for all he cared. At least Blake could be the diplomatic one. She was the voice of reason in Team RWBY. She always knew her facts before speaking. And seeing as the fact that he was _**Innocent**_ here, she would try and convince the jury that he had done nothing wrong.

 _._

 _.._

 _..._

 _Oh. She's gone. **HOW QUAINT.**_ Damn, it's like Blake to run from things like this. Whenever there was a conflict that directly involved her, she would always back away. She would always run from the problem. It would seem today would prove no different. Though to be quite honest, he could understand on some level.

 **BUT HE WAS STILL FUCKING ANGRY.**

The last person to speak was Weiss. Nice, elegant Weiss. Sure he may have annoyed her from time to time. But she was someone who knew the importance of things like this and would come to his aid when he needed it. He'd do it for her in a heartbeat! There's literally no reason as to why she would possibly try and slander his name...

 _"That impotent_ _buffoon has been nothing but a nuisance. If you ask me, this was just something that has been a long time coming. I just hope that I won't be associated with such a horrible monster. Oum only knows what it would do to the Schnee company."_

So that was it, huh? He was just some criminal to them. Some lowlife that he was training to try and combat. Is that what he was to them? Well how about that shit? He gave them his time, his patience, his notes, his ideas, his lunch and not to mention his **_MOTHER FUCKING SHOWER UTILITIES FOR CRYING OUT LOUD! AND THIS IS THE WAY THAT THEY REPAY HIM!? JUST THE FUCKING NERVE OF THEM THE...GAH!_**

Whatever, they could all die in a ditch for all the shits he gave. There was one team that he could count on through thick and thin. And that was Team JNPR. His own team. There was absolutely, positively no way that they would do the same to him that Team RWBY had done. There was just no way!

.

..

...

 _"That fiend did it. I know he did. Only he would be able to do such a thing. If I could, I would break a lot more than his legs that's for sure."_

 _NO..._

 _"I used to think that he was someone worth the effort. That he was someone worth my time and respect. But I would never respect someone who would do that to people who can't defend themselves."_

 ** _NO NO NO!_**

He couldn't believe it! The two people that he considered siblings. Turning their backs on him. The anger that he had been feeling up until now had burnt him out. He was tired. He was alone. And he was frightened of what the future might hold.

There was no one...

.

..

...

Wait! Pyrrha! She had been by his side since day one! She would absolutely vouch for him. There was no doubts in his mind about that! One hundred percent! She was the nicest person he knew! They had spent the most time together out of all of his...out of all of Beacon! So he didn't have to worry about a thing! Pyrrha would save him! Like she always did!

 _'I'm...so sorry. I...I never knew he was capable of this. If I had known beforehand, I would have tried to stay away from him as much as possible. To think that he was my partner. I feel so disgusted. I swear I never knew about any of this. I'd ruin my image if I did."_

And like that, his world had been flipped on it's side and shattered into a million pieces. The one person that he thought would stick by him had just...had just turned like the rest and left him to this grim fate. It just wasn't fair!

It just wan't fair...

Before he could continue to wallow in his now sunken spirits, the judge brought his attention back to him and continued with his previous statement...or whatever. It's not like he could bother to care anymore.

"However, I will give you a choice. Go to a maximum security prison awaiting your execution, or you may choose to leave yourself within the experimental correctional facility right here in Vale. The choice is yours. And while I don't normally sympathize for vile monsters like you, even _I_ would say that the death sentence is better than the...'facility'." The judge said, honestly hoping that no one had to go to that horrible place. It was constructed a few years ago and it was already making a reputation as one of the most infamous places on the planet. There were rumors that the 'Warden' had allegedly sold it's inmates to the criminal underground.

Now Jaune weighed his options carefully. He could either take the death sentence and have all of this end, or he could have this pain go on and maybe even get worse in a correctional facility. He was so tempted to take the death sentence. Every fiber of his being was telling him to take it. But there was one small part of him. One single part of him that was telling him to take the other option. Whether it was his base instinct to preserve his own life, or a higher entity guiding him, he didn't know. And quite frankly? He didn't care anymore.

"Your honor. I would like to go to the correctional facility, please." Jaune said. He sounded so broken. So hopeless. Yet his tone had fell on deaf ears. The judge sighed in a mix of disappointment and sadness before wiping his hand down his face. He had a unique skill that allowed him to just tell whether or not someone was guilty of something. It was the cause of the end of a couple of friendships for him. Yet it has also lead to even more friendships for him as well. It has yet to fail him in his many years as a judge. It's actually the reason why he wanted to become a judge on the first place. But this case...it had never felt right from the beginning. The only reason he hadn't called a false trial was because the prosecutor had some...information that would not only take away his position as a judge, but also have himself tried by one. This child...he radiated the most purity he's ever felt from anyone. And that was saying something. Yet he has just been subjugated to such a harsh fate. Not even counting his sentence, the entirety of this trial has been against him. He saw as his eyes dulled when his own family turned on him. He almost wanted to just forget his job and call a mistrial, but one look from that prosecutor was enough to squash that thought altogether. Then he saw those other teens testify against him. From the file he was given on the boy, he knew that they used to be his friends at Beacon Academy which surprised him. An aspiring huntsman-in-training was being tried for such extreme charges. He cursed under his breath at how cowardly he was being. His want to stay a judge was the cause of this poor child to be sentence to a fate worse than death. He knew that one day that he would have to face the consequences of his cowardice once his time came. But for now, he had a case to finish.

"Very well. Then you will be sentenced to life without chance of parole in the Tartarus Correctional Facility. You will be transferred immediately. Guards, escort Arc to his destination." The Judge said banging his gavel and closing the case. He honest to god wanted to quit. That had been the most heart wrenching case he had ever done. And in some way shape and form, he knew that this wouldn't be the last he heard of this. But for now, he had some whisky at home that had his name on it.

"Come on dirt bag, you heard him. It's time to go." said one of the guards as he shoved the young man forwards. Jaune didn't even respond to it. He had already been broken beyond repair. What was a little push to him. So as he walked toward the door that lead him to his fate, he looked back to the very people that helped put him in this predicament. They were all giving him blank looks. But when he turned to face Pyrrha, he saw the faintest traces of guilt. He felt another tug in his gut that he felt when they gave their testimonies. But it was much more prominent this time. So much so that he was starting to lose control of himself. It was so strong that the Aura cuffs on his wrists and ankles were starting to strain and groan. All of this single emotion that was flooding through him. It was clouding his mind, overriding any sense of right he had. It was something that had always tried to suppress. Something that he only ever had in small bursts. But in this instance. In this point in time. He let it consume him. He let it guide him. He could feel nothing...

 _ **BUT RAGE!**_

" ** _How could you!? I thought you were my friends! My family! I trusted you!_ "** Jaune bellowed in rage, breaking the cuffs on him and making a mad dash towards his former friends. The guards had immediately jumped in to try and take him to the ground, but he shrugged them off and kept on sprinting to the items of his rage.

 _ **" I gave you everything! I was there every time you needed my help!"**_ This time more guards came in and tackled him, finally managing to take him to the floor, but were struggling to hold him in place. Teams RWBY and _NPR were taken back at the outburst and were told to get out of the building along with everyone else. But they had their eyes glued on the blonde berzerker, who at this point had completely lost it. He was thrashing around, trying to shake off the ten guards pinning him down.

 _ **" WHEN I GET MY HANDS ON YOU, I'LL MAKE YOU SUFFER! YOU HEAR ME!? I WILL MAKE YOU PAY! I'LL MAKE YOU ALL PAY! I'LL RIP OUT YOUR THROATS! BASH YOUR TEETH IN! AND PLACE YOUR HEADS ON A WOODEN PIKE! YOU HEAR ME YOU MOTHER FUCKERS!? YOU PIECES OF SHIT! I WILL GET MY REVENGE! COUNT ON IT! AND ANYONE WHO GETS IN MY WAY WILL-"**_ He was interrupted as another person ran into the room and injected him with a needle full of a very potent sedative. He winced from the harsh injection before he started losing all muscle control. He was able to send the teams one more death glare along with a final shout before succumbing to darkness. The teams themselves were shaken by the display. But before they could ponder on it any more, they were quickly escorted out of the building. Leaving Jaune to be taken by a few more guards.

* * *

When he came too, Jaune looked around to see that he was in some sort of cell. He was still in a haze when everything suddenly lurched forward, causing him to fall off of what seemed to be a small bench. He tried looking around when there was another lurch. He tried putting a hand on the bench to try and gain his balance, but noticed that his other hand moved with it and that when he looked down, they were concealed within a pair of cuffs. This time, they were much more sturdy than the ones he was arrested in back in the courthouse. They were trapped within this...cylindrical device. He didn't know how to describe it, but he couldn't even move his fingers. Before he could think about anything else, there was one more lurch of the cell and then he heard some kind of commotion coming from outside the walls. He got to his feet and looked through a small window slit that allowed him to see the outside. When he looked around, he saw a sort of toll booth. After a few seconds, he realized that he was in the back of a prison truck being transported to that correctional facility. Then he felt the vehicle start to move again and sat down before he could be sent to the floor again. He still couldn't believe what happened. He was convicted of a crime that he didn't commit, and his 'friends' had turned their backs on him.

"Hrrnn." Jaune breathed out. Even the mere though of those people filled him with rage. Even the fear of this facility didn't cancel the anger he had for them. Speaking of which, The vehicle had stopped again, but this time, he suspected that this was the time that he would be put into his cell or whatever they did for a correctional center. He sighed again, closing his eyes and waiting for those doors to open and for him to be put through his sentence. He waited...and waited...and waited...

.

..

...

"Wait. Where-" Before he could finish his sentence, the doors finally opened to reveal a pair of men in some rugged clothes. He looked at them in confusion. Who were they? And where were the guards that were supposed to be there?

"Hey there little man. Guess what? You don't have to serve your sentence anymore." One of the men said, coming up to Jaune, freed his hands with the key to the strange cuffs and gesturing him to follow. Jaune was confused. He didn't have to serve his sentence? While that was kind of nice, he didn't understand one thing.

"What? Why?" Jaune asked as he got off the back of the truck while rubbing the soreness out of his wrists. He looked around to find himself within the more...decrepit parts of Vale. Behind him was a fairly large building he could tell was the correctional facility. It was nearing night so the structure looked more intimidating. He looked back to the two men to see a car come up to them. For the second time that day, he felt a foreboding aura in the air. The two men turned back to him and smiled wickedly at him as two more men came out of the car with crowbars.

"Because now you belong to the Arena." The man said, gesturing the two men with crowbars to get him. Jaune started backing away, but then realized that the only thing behind him was the correctional facility. He stopped and looked toward the well built men in front of him. He was practically defenseless and couldn't do anything to stop them. The man spoke up again, this time in an obviously fake concern. "Don't take this personally. But the Arena's been a little low on gladiators, so you could say it's just business. Get 'em." The man said, and the only thing that Jaune was able to say before he was hit across the face by one of the men was the only reasonable thing that anyone would say.

"Aw shit." Then everything went black...again.

* * *

 **Alright everyone, that is the first chapter of The Fall From Grace. I'm sure that some of you are off put by this...or you are thrilled by what comes next. I really don't know what reactions i'll get from this. But either way, this is the new story that i'll be working on next to my other ones. Please tell me how i'm doing so that I can maybe improve what i'm doing wrong. Anyway, I don't really have anything else to say here, so i'll leave with this. NO BOATS! Toodles~!**


	2. Newcomer

**Disclaimer: RWBY was created by the late Monty Oum-may he always live within our hearts-and is owned by RoosterTeeth.**

 **Hey guys, we're here again with another chapter of The Fall From Grace. But for some of the characters, it might be a fall to their grave eh? Eh?...alright, so anyway. We've seen him convicted of a crime he obviously didn't commit, and then was taken away by a strange third party. But if you read carefully then you can probably guess where and who he was taken by. So, this chapter, as stated in the name, is going to be focusing on his arrival in the 'Arena' that was mentioned in the previous chapter. Now here's a challenge for all of you. Can any of you figure out what semi-crossover i'm going to be introducing later on in this story? Now with the formalities out of the way, let's get right into it!**

* * *

Everything was a blur of colors and noises. He had been drifting in and out of consciousness. The first time he 'woke up' he had caught a glimpse out of what he thought was the inside of a car trunk. There were an assortment of tools and even a tire. It also seemed that his kidnappers had tied him up and put a cloth over his mouth. One of the few things he heard before he fell back into unconsciousness was a conversation that two of the men in the front had.

"Hey, Eddie. Can you believe it? To think that we got an _Arc_ in the arena now." One of them said as if he won the lottery.

"Yeah yeah. But from what the transcripts said, this one seems to be a bit of a dud." The other one said offhandedly. There was a small huff from the first man, as if trying to convey that it didn't matter.

"So? Remember the stories of 'Vlad the Merciless'? He was, like, the one who actually made it!" The grunt exclaimed, and from the sounds of it, the lackey seemed to be surprised by his claim.

Jaune listened carefully to what they were saying, mostly because he had nothing better to do, but also because he was certain that he's heard that name before...Vlad...

"Huh? You mean that one guy that won his freedom? What does he have to do with this kid?" The lackey asked, not getting what the grunt was getting at. There was a sort of excited noise before he gave an explanation.

"Well, turns out, that same guy was one of the weakest fighters around when he first showed up. But in just a few months, he started turning into this merciless killing machine. No one ever beat him in a match." The grunt was speaking of this Vlad as if he were some sort of idol of his. Jaune was still trying to remember where he heard of the name Vlad before. It was on the tip of his tongue. He just needed a bit more info before he'd get it.

The lackey seemed to still be a bit confused as to why the grunt brought this up, but was definitely more invested now. So he decided to add in his own two cents to the conversation.

"Oh yeah. But uh, didn't he have a relatively low kill count?" The lackey asked, not really getting what made Vlad so 'Merciless'. The grunt chuckled in amusement before deciding to elaborate.

"Yeah, of course, but killing people is not what gave him the nickname. No no no! He was called 'Vlad the Merciless' because he would completely dominate whoever he was facing in both strength _and_ speed. He would find ways to pick you apart in both the metaphorical and _literal_ ways too! not a single one of his victims left the arena in one piece. for some, he'd rip off a few limbs. For another, he'd cripple their legs with his bare fists or even blind them by gouging out their eyes with the hand he cut off." the grunt explained, sounding excited as if he were talking about the juiciest parts of an action movie. He then continued with his explanation when he knew he had the lackey entranced with the story. "And for those exceptional few that could actually pose a threat to him?" The grunt said in a way that suggested something especially heinous would happen. "He'd tear them apart limb by limb! making sure that each appendage was ripped off in a bloody heap. He'd start with shattering the kneecaps. Then, he'd break the arms at the elbows. Followed by breaking each one of their knuckles. If they even tried to resist or fight back, he'd punch them in the jaw so hard, it would shatter! Then he would go on to do the same with their feet before meticulously breaking every bone in their body. By then, the screams would have stopped by either their shock, going unconscious, or even because they were choking on their own blood!" The grunt explained theatrically. The lackey was actually awed at the man known as Vlad now. Becoming so engrossed in the story that he was almost left speechless. But he was able to ask one more question despite this.

"W-what would he do then?" The lackey asked, making the grunt smirk. There was a glint in his eye as he finished his explanation.

"After all was said and done, Vlad would pick the guy up by the head, show their skinned face and gouged eye sockets...and then CRUSH THEIR SKULLS INTO MUSH!" the grunt exclaimed, making the lackey lean back in surprise before dawning a truly awed expression. This Vlad guy truly was a legend! But there was just one thing about him that didn't make sense.

"Wait, if Vlad was as merciless as you say he was, then why hasn't anyone heard of him before?" The lackey questioned. And the grunt made a sound of acknowledgement which in and of itself sounded strained. As if it was a stain upon Vlad's very name.

"Right. Well, after he won his freedom, the Big Five at the time weren't too keen on the 'hope' that he gave by showing everyone that they could actually win their freedom. So they uh, made the entire existence of Vlad a hoax. Made him seem like a cheat. Damn bastards. But luckily, it only made the fighters more hopeful. But once Vlad left, they upped the anti on how you would escape. Now it's almost impossible to leave." The grunt answered, still a bit miffed at the prospect of diminishing everything that the man had done before. But he let it go, at least someone else was able to know of the gloriousness that was Vlad the Merciless.

"That's pretty cool, but where did he go after he got out?" The lackey asked again, making the grunt look ahead of the car in thought.

"Nobody knows. He just vanished and never returned. But here's the thing, A few decades later, guess who shows up to lead the army that would end the Great War?" The grunt explained before asking the lackey. The lackey Himself was starting to get where this was going, and a look of understanding was slowly starting to dawn on his face. The Grunt then nodded to him, confirming his suspicions.

All the while this was happening, Jaune was starting to put the pieces together and figured out where he heard the name 'Vlad The Merciless'. And the memory made his eyes widen in realization. Vlad was the father of...of...

"Arthur Alexander Arc. Son of Vlad the Merciless."

As Jaune heard the conclusion, he thought about the one picture of his great-great-grandmother and the towering man next to her. He was so tall in fact, that his head went above the frame of the picture. His great-great-grandmother only reached up to the mans waist. But even from how worn the picture looked, one could clearly see how scarred and war torn he had been. Along with the picture was a quote that was written by the man himself.

 _"I am man who has lost everything, who had nothing else to lose. A lesser man would succumb at such misery, but I took destiny by the neck and tossed it aside to make my own future. Because destiny is nothing but a false hope that weaklings hold on to. A real warrior relies on his own strength and the support of those he cherishes." - Vladimir Arc_

Those were the words written on the back of the photo by his great-great-grandfather. He found that picture when he was playing around his grandparents house and was rummaging through their attic as every small child would. When his grandmother came up to find him and saw that he had the picture in his hands, she looked a small bit conflicted at first, but smiled a moment later.

 _"Mi-ma, who are they?" Little Jaune asked, holding the picture up so that his grandmother could see clearly. The woman in turn smiled somberly and got down to her knees so she could stay on eye level with him. She took the picture from him as if it were a delicate flower that would wither away at any sudden movement. She looked at it fondly, as if remembering something that had long since past. Jaune had no idea why his Mi-ma was acting like this. She was usually the life of the party. That's where everybody says that his mother got it from. But he's never seen her act like this before. It's like when he thinks about his old pet fish that he used to have. It got sick from something that one of his sisters tried to feed it an they had to let it go._

 _"Well, That woman right there was my grandmother. Or your great-great-grandmother. She was one tough cookie i'll tell you that. Once, when she was about to be robbed by a group of bandits, she simply smirked at them before she did away with them in a second flat." His grandmother said, giggling as she recalled the story she once heard from her own parents._

 _Jaune was awestruck at the talent that his ancestor must have had in order to to that. But there was one more thing that he wanted to know about the picture._

 _"That's amazing Mi-ma, but who's the other guy?" He asked, already assuming that it was his great-great-grandfather, but wanted his Mi-ma to confirm it first. She in turn smiled a bit wider before answering._

 _"That would be your great-great-grandfather, Vladimir Arc. Now, Vladimir...He was a loving man. Family through and through. He worked hard to make sure our family was happy and safe. He even trained us himself when he thought we were ready. Though he never really talked about his own parents. I figured it was something personal. But one day, he went out to meet a friend of his. And when he came back, he...he had changed. It was very subtle. But he seemed to be working hard on something. A sword of sorts. But from how much metal he was using, we thought he was trying to build a giant robot or something. When we asked about it, he said that it would go to his successor. But his successor to what? We didn't know. But just before he passed away, he completed his weapon. It was this giant of a sword. Nobody could wield it. But he insisted that one day his successor would be able to." She said, remembering the last breaths that her grandfather took before something strange happened._

 _"When he was on his deathbed in our house, he called to me and made me promise something. He made me promise that if i were to ever find myself in a situation where i loose everything, I would never give up. I gave him my word and that was the last conversation i ever had with him. Though, when he passed away, it looked like his soul moved from out of his body and spirited itself into the next room. When we checked the only thing in there was the sword that he had crafted. But when we tried to study it, or even try to make a dent in it, not a single thing happened. None of us were even able to make a single scratch on it's surface." She said, knowing the day that the every Arc came together to try and free whatever energy that was lying inside of the behemoth of a sword. They only really tried once they figured out that the energy inside of it was an exact match with what Vladimir's Aura used to be. Her grandmother took it the worst. If there was one way that she could bring him back, she would go to the ends of the planet to do it. Needless to say, Vanessa Arc was a very dedicated wife, and an even more dedicated mother. But on the subject of her grandfather, she looked up and felt something. It sort of felt like her grandfather was there, telling her to make Jaune keep the promise that she made to him all those years ago._

 _She looked to the end of the attic to see the display case that held a very worn but still very cared for set of armor. It was a very dark shade of navy blue with dark red highlights. There were some chips and scrapes along the entirety of it, telling of the battles it has seen. There were various weapons that were also partnered with it. Ranging from throwing knives, pistols, and even a great sword that was a bit more than half the height of the armor. A name plaque was in front of all of this with the description 'Vladimir Arc: Commanding General of the renegade squad Berserk'. It was a small army that Vladimir assembled in his younger years. It consisted of him, a friend from what he called his 'Eclipsed' days that he considered a full blown brother, his wife, another friend that he met while fighting in the war that his son lead the fight against, and finally was the woman that had actually started off as someone from the opposing side that was sent as a spy to try and assassinate Vladimir before he was able to turn her over to their side and made her his honorary sister. He had many thrilling adventures with them. From the tales he would share and the fond memories he would tell them about. Vladimir was loved by all and was grieved over for many moons. But..._

 _"Wow...He must have been so cool. Mi-ma, why don't we ever talk about him anymore?" Jaune asked innocently. The comment made a grimace spread across her usually spirited face. The reason behind that was because after he passed away, thy found out that those 'Eclipsed' days he used to talk about were when he was part of The Arena. An underground death pit if you would. Vladimir had been shunned by his parents for being so in-adept to fighting that they sold him off to The Arena. They thought that his younger brother would be more fitting of a patriarch to the family. This was proven false when that same younger sibling turned up dead in the middle of the Emerald Forest. Meanwhile, Vlad had quickly adapted to the harsh life in The Arena. He had to face many foes within those accursed walls. From Grim to other people, there were no acceptations. Very quickly did Vladimir start to lose his mind to blood-lust. But when he met his honorary brother, he started to anchor himself back t humanity. Though he still did have some violent tendencies, he was relatively calm most of the time. But when he met his to-be future wife, it was like love at first sight. The rest is history from there. But the mere fact that Vladimir had been 'Vlad the Merciless' had been enough for her son and daughter-in-law to want to cut all ties with him and never associate themselves or their children with him at all. She would have never thought her only son to be so shallow as to do something like that. Her daughter-in-law was pretty believable if she was going to be honest. She may put up a nicety act all the time, but her core beliefs and wants are far from what you'd call respectable. Even her own granddaughters were showing to be complete brats. The only one that was pure and sweet was her little banana nut muffin Jaune here._

 _"Well, That's because your parents...they don't like him very much. But don't worry about that. Right now, I want you to promise me something Jaune." His grandmother started, gaining the young Arc's complete and undivided attention._

 _"Yes Mi-ma?"_

 _"I want you to promise me that no matter what happens. No matter if you lose everything you care for. No matter if everything seems grim, you'll pull through and stay strong." She asked him, looking him in the eye. Jaune looked down for a moment before looking back at her with resolution burning in his azure eyes._

 _"Okay Mi-ma, I'll stay strong, no matter what. I promise."_

"And an Arc never goes back on his word." Jaune said to himself as he heard the commotion in the front of the car start to die down and the distinct noise of a market square start to blare into his ears. But this was different from the market square he was used to. It sounded like there were drugs being sold and various other things that would definitely get you arrested if you tried to sell any of them in the streets of Vale. So the only conclusion that he had was that this was the infamous Underworld of Vale. He decided to listen for any vital information that he may need to use if he were to somehow escape this place. However, he was able to find nothing of the sort. So when they were coming to a stop, He mentally prepared himself for what was to come.

At first, he heard nothing. Then, after a moment, he heard the doors to the car open and close a moment after. His hands were still tied together and his mouth was still gagged by rope and cloth, so he couldn't really do anything at the moment. He decided that the best course of action was to go along with whatever they wanted to do with him until he could find enough time to plan his escape. After a few voices were heard, he noticed that the sounds of footsteps were drawing near. He then heard the jingling of keys before the group of mobsters popped open the trunk, letting the light of day spill into the dark trunk temporarily blinding the tall blonde. He winced in protest before his arms were grabbed and he was forced out of the trunk and to the floor. Before he could even so much as utter a sound, he was forced back onto his feet and had a knife brought up in front of his face. He showed a flash of fear on his face before the knife only cut the cloth covering his mouth off. He reflexively stretched his jaw and licked his chapped lips, looking back to the mobsters that brought him here. One of them was still holding the knife while another pair were holding revolvers. The leader in the back gestured for the goons to bring him along and turned heel to walk towards a large building that seemed to reach the heavens. Yet he figured that if the ominous feeling in the air and the sounds of battle coming from inside were anything to go by, this was going to be his hell for the foreseeable future. He was shoved forward by one of the goons and was threatened to move forward. He did as he was told and followed the other goons to his fate.

The leader of the goons looked back and held his arms out while walking backwards as if introducing him to a world renowned theme park.

"Well Newcomer, welcome to The Arena!"

* * *

 **...So my birthday was like, last month. The twenty-fourth to be exact. But in any case, This has been the next chapter of The Fall From Grace. And i apologize for how long this took. I'd give an excuse, but I'm sure you've heard them all by this point. So I'm not going to bother. But don't get me wrong. I am still terribly sorry about the time lapse since last time, it's just that i don't have a viable excuse to give. But on another note, I'm going to be changing the course of history in this story. Just a tiny bit. Just enough to have our favorite uncle in the Arena as well. And i am still not happy with the Vic Mignogna thing that's been happening. But...i digress. It's stupid, yes, but as ling as we fans know the truth, then we can make our own stories and our own worlds. Such is the nature of Fanfictions. Our own little worlds where we are the ones in charge for once. Some of us are just better at it than others. But i've been talking too long. So with that, I will see you all in the next chapter of whatever i decide to update next. So until next time, Toodles~!**


	3. First Blood

**Disclaimer: RWBY was created by Monty Oum-may he forever live on in our hearts-and is owned by RoosterTeeth. I in no way own the show or it's characters. But in all honesty, there could have been a few things that should and shouldn't have changed, and i'll leave it at that.**

 **So we're here again for another chapter of The Fall From Grace. Now I know what you're thinking. "Konshiro-kun, Why are you updating so often now desu~?". Now my young and oh so naive audience, I have a simple answer to that. I just wanna. In fact, I should be updating much more quickly now for the next few months. Consider it my generous gift to all of you. Anyway, I've wasted enough time, lets get into the tender bits. MUAHAHAHAHAHA!**

* * *

As Jaune was shoved into the giant building, he contemplated what was going to happen to him and what he could do to either get out of here or just to survive the horrors that were to come. He looked from left to right catching glimpses of other 'viewers' and even other people like him chained to walls and barred in cells. He almost pitied them, thinking that most of them might have been forced here against their will. Some of them might have even been innocent people that were stolen from their lives and sold to this 'Arena'. It was then that he remembered his own "trial", if you could even call it that. He hadn't even known, seen or heard of that woman until he was accused of murdering her. All things considered, he should have been able to successfully defend his case and sue _them_ for compensation. But no. That didn't happen. What happened was that the prosecutor used fake evidence, bribed the jury, and even his frien-...the Huntsmen in training. The judge seemed to be swayed as well. Everything in that case was pitted against him. His own Lawyer did little to nothing that would prove his innocence but in fact might have made his case worse. His ' _ **FRIENDS**_ ' sold him out. They each gave testimonies that were untrue, false and had no evidence that backed them up. The time frames that were presented overlapped each other and nothing was said about it. He had no idea why this was all happening to him, or how he was going to get out of this, but he knew for damn sure that when he gets out...

 _ **THERE WILL BE HELL TO**_ _ **PAY**_

His thoughts were interrupted when there was a call near the end of the hall. He looked up and saw a rather built man with a suit of platinum color. His hair was black and his eyes were a dark and sinister green. Parallel to each other were two jagged scars that ran from the base of his neck to the corners of his mouth. He leered down at the henchmen addressed them in a cold and gritty voice.

"So you have the new recruit?" He asked, making the head of the group swallow a lump in his throat before giving his report.

"Yes sir, Mr. 1 sir. We got him from Beacon Academy." He said while looking up at the space above Mr. 1's head. The man nodded and turned to look at the clipboard that he carried with him when the henchman cleared his throat to speak again. "One more thing sir, if I might add. He's an...Arc." He finalized. This made the man stop before turning his head directly to meet Jaune's gaze.

"Is that so? And you said that he hails from Beacon Academy as well..." Mr. 1 said, walking closer to the young man. When he was a step away from him, Jaune saw that Mr. 1 had a foot or two over him. and considering that he himself was about six foot...the man was absolutely massive. His built frame added on to the intimidation factor as well. The man spoke up again. His eyes never leaving Jaune's.

"The Headmaster...what did he have to say about all this?" He asked, making the leader of the group think about it for a moment before answering.

"Well, Headmaster Ozpin had his hands tied at the moment. The Council was making sure that he didn't have a word in it." He explained, still not daring to look at the man directly. Meanwhile, both Jaune and Mr. 1 were glaring daggers into each others skulls. Jaune decided that he wouldn't say anything lest his fear show. But his anger was what was keeping his gaze strong. This continued for a few more seconds before he brought his hand up, a dark silverish Aura seeping from him and to his suit's cuffs. And from his sleeves came a number of threads before weaving together into a sort of brand like shape. The brand itself looking to be a variant of his family symbol of two crescents, but instead, had two claw marks with the addition of a hound like beast staring at the marks.

"Good." Was all he said before he brought the now heated brand to Jaune's neck and pressed hard, making him cry in pain. The four men behind him kept him in place as Mr. 1 engraved the mark into Jaune's neck. When the process was done, Mr. 1 took his hand away, flicking his wrist to the wall, expelling the heat into flames that scorched the bricks. The threads then receded back into his suit like nothing happened. The goons let go of him for a moment, allowing him to crumble to the ground and try to nurse the fresh wound on his neck. He grit his teeth and tried to hold back a scream. He wouldn't let them hear that much. His fighting spirit forced him to look up into the uncaring eyes of Mr. 1 and glare daggers. Mr. 1 on his part looked unfazed, but turned to the now nervous henchmen and gave them their orders.

"I want him locked up with the Old Bird. That should keep him from being killed by the other Gladiators. That brand of yours should keep any alliances from being formed. Far too many people here hold hatred for Vlad to ever want to help you. And you'd best be ready for your first match. It will be held within the next two hours. We are short a few Gladiators and you are going to be part of the replacements. It's either live or die out there and the audience wont be satisfied until there's only one man standing. So I suppose you should start praying." Mr. 1 said, talking to Jaune as he walked away. Jaune's anger was starting to boil until the four henchmen grabbed him and started dragging him away into another hallway. Jaune's eyes never stopped glaring at the back of Mr. 1's suit.

* * *

"Hey Old Bird! We got you a new roommate. Try not to kill this one, eh?" The men laughed as they threw Jaune into the spacious room and slammed the door shut behind them. Jaune quickly got up and slammed himself against the steel barrier. He even tried to use his Aura but was shocked when the bars of the cell absorbed some of it and shot out a wave of electric dust, knocking him back and making his limbs feel numb. He groaned and tried to get back up before he heard a second voice from further down the room.

"I'd stop now if I were you, kid. There's nothing but bad luck waiting for you if you keep doing what you're doing." A gruff voice said. Jaune was slightly surprised before he looked back to see a slightly aged man with short scruffy hair, a stubble and some old looking clothes consisting of a worn button up shirt that used to be grey but now looked more like dirt. His pants, or what was left of them, were torn and severely faded. His eyes were a crimson red, though most of the life seemed to have been lost from them. He was also chained to the ground with thick chains. His feet were dirty, had thick layers of callouses on them and had faint traces of blood on them as well. Jaune was confused and sat up, turning to the weathered man.

"Who...who are you?" He asked, thinking that there might be some organization to all this mess. He got a chuckle from the man before he raised his hands as if making a grand gesture.

"In here, I'm called the 'Old Bird', the 'Murder', and even the 'Bad Omen'." He said with fake mirth. He then dropped his arms to his sides before sighing. his posture slouching some more before continuing. "But I used to be a Hunter. One of the damn best there ever was. And my name...is Qrow. Qrow Branwen to be specific." Qrow finished, leaning his head against the cell wall and looking at the young man. Jaune looked on in confusion before his eyes widened and pointed at him

"Wait, Branwen? Like Raven Branwen?" Jaune asked, thinking about the Aunt of Ruby and mother of Yang. The thought of those two made him grimace a bit before the man lifted his head to look at him again, interest clearly in mind. But after a moment, his faced flashed in anger.

"Yeah, I'm her brother. Didn't stop that bitch from tossing me in this place though." Qrow said, an angry scowl adorning his face. He looked to the side before he seemed to realize something and looked to Jaune again, who was looking confused. He had never heard that Raven had a sibling, or any other family member. Yang and Ruby would seem to darken their features when family was brought up, but he thought nothing of it. So to hear that Raven had a brother who she apparently got thrown into this place was shocking. He wanted to ask more questions but was stopped by Qrow suddenly bolting from his position and getting up close to Jaune's face, looking at the still fresh mark on his neck. He kept his steady gaze before he started chuckling. His chuckle turned into full on laughter, causing Jaune to be both confused and concerned that the mark might get him killed here for a reason that was somehow tied to his ancestor Vlad. When Qrow's laughter ceased, he had a dark smile on his face.

"Huh, never thought that I'd see the day where a decedent of 'Vlad the Merciless' would be tossed back here in The Arena. Seems a bit ironic though. Seeing as how he won his freedom and now you lost it. What's your name kid?" Qrow asked, sitting back and smirking at him. Jaune seemed confused beyond compare, but decided to introduce himself anyway.

"J-Jaune Arc." He said, still not really understanding why Qrow seemed to be so happy to see him. He didn't know what else to say, so he just let the older man speak again.

"Well Jaune, It's a pleasure to meet you. And seeing as how we live here now, it's not too common that I get to use that word non-sarcastically." Qrow said, giving a small smirk to the young man. Jaune had now recollected his barrings and started asking his now built up questions.

"Wait, hold on, first: Why is this symbol so important? Second: Why did your family never talk about you and how did you get here? And third: What exactly is this place?" Jaune asked before Qrow could say another word. The old man stared at him blankly before sighing and rubbing the back of his neck. He seemed to think about it before looking back to Jaune.

"First off, that symbol on your neck, just so happens to be the mark of 'Vlad the Merciless'. You see, each Gladiator in here had a Brand on their body. Most of them get the common branding of the Arena. Just a spartan helmet and that's it. Then there are the more special markings. Where a person from the higher ups buy the Gladiators themselves and brand them with their own personal symbol. The people who buy these fighters are called sponsors. Allegedly, they 'help' their fighter get rep, which in turn earns the sponsor more money to make their fighter better. pretty much upgrading their arsenal. It would go on like this until either the fighter dies, or the Gladiator earns enough money that they win their freedom." Qrow started, painting an image of blood and carnage that only ended with one person on top of a mountain of bodies. Though, he did imagine himself atop the corpses of Team RWBY and the rest of Team JNPR. And that body count was beginning to grow in numbers the more he thought about his predicament.

That brought a smile to his face.

"Though, everyone here knows that the whole 'win your freedom' crap is bullshit. The only thing you win here is the right to live another day. Sure, you can still go up the ranks and stuff. Get cool gear, be able to trade out there in the Black Market, bang a bunch of chicks, be a star in the Underworld, but that doesn't matter. You still have to fight and fight and fight. They all die eventually. Either by their own arrogance, chance, or some new upstart that repeats the whole process. I've seen it myself...much too many times..." Qrow started, thinking about how the guards made that jab at him and the previous people that he's tried to help. Jaune looked at him in worry, but wasn't allowed to voice his concerns as Qrow continued answering his questions.

"Me...I'm in here because of my shit luck. I was on a mission for the Headmaster Ozpin, to retrieve the Fall Maiden from her route across Anima because we found out that she was going to be attacked, yada yada yada..." Qrow babbled. Though, Jaune had to put his foot down there. What the hell was the Fall Maiden?

"Hold on. Fall Maiden? What's that supposed to be?" Jaune asked, making Qrow stop for a moment before letting out a sound between a sigh and a chuckle.

"Ever heard of the tale of the Four Seasons?" Qrow asked, gaining a confused nod from Jaune. He then continued. "Let me put it simple and say that all of it is true. Magic is real and there are indeed four Maidens with Magic powers. you get it now?" Qrow asked, again, hoping to get this out of the way as soon as possible. Jaune stared at him blankly for a few moments before closing his eyes and letting out a breath.

"Okay. The magic part is easy to believe, at least for me. The Maidens may be a bit of a stretch, but still not out of the realm of possibility given that we all have built in force fields and super powers. But my question is...why are you telling _me_ this?" Jaune questioned. If what he was telling him was true, then that information would seem to be very vital and would need to be kept a secret from anyone and everyone. So why would he just tell him all this vital information?

"Oh, well, figured that I'd be able to screw the bastards over. tell certain people things. It's how I mostly stay alive around here. That, and get me a great spacey room. You should see how the actual holding cells look like. Disgusting I tell ya. But yeah, telling people about this, while not going to affect Ozpin and his little group now, will surely fuck them over in the long run." He explained, an angered face plastering itself and showcasing just how much hatred he had for the Headmaster of Beacon.

"That's cool and all, and I have quite a few people that I want to be taken care of too, wouldn't you rather take care of them yourself?" Jaune asked, thinking that he himself would be happy with strangling the life out of either Weiss or even Yang. They helped put him in this hell, so if- ** _when_** he gets out, he's going to return the favor ten-fold. Qrow then gave him one of the most evilest smirks he's seen to date, giving a venomous laugh as he spoke.

"Oh trust me kid, If I had the chance, I'd rip their fucking throats out. But I know that I'll most likely die here. Either when one of the higher ups decides that I'm no longer useful, of age, or if I'm put up against the usual unwinnable odds they pit these fighters in. Speaking of which, I believe you have a match in the next hour or so, right?" He asked, gaining a nod from the young man. "Then chances are that they are going to try and see if you are worth the trouble. They are either going to make you fight an old Grim, a talented Gladiator, a bunch of other fighters...or even all three. I can never tell anymore. Believe it or not, going in guns blazing is most likely the most effective way to do things. It'll disorientate the enemy, make them flinch. That gives you enough time to go in for the kill." Qrow instructed, making Jaune look down at himself. Sure, he wanted nothing more than to go out there and kill off the back stabbing motherfuckers that _were_ his friends, but these were other people that probably had the same situation as him. How was he supposed to deal with that?

"Hey, I can tell you're a little conflicted about killing these guys. And that's natural. I get it..." Qrow started, being sympathetic with the Arc. He had the same problem as well when he first started fighting in the Arena. But then he told Jaune the same thing that let him kill people when he needed to. "But these people don't care about that. They only care about their own survival. So I want you to consider that for a moment. And if that's not enough, then just imagine that they're in the way of you and whatever it is that you desire...speaking of which, how did you get thrown in here?" Qrow asked, being curious as to how the descendant of 'Vlad the Merciless' got himself into this shit hole.

At the question, Jaune's left eye twitched before he remembered how everyone he knew had essentially tied him down and riddled him with bullets with how they turned against him. When it was obvious that he had done nothing wrong. Sure, his transcripts were forged, but that wasn't even brought up in the case surprisingly. Everyone was too caught up in the business of accusing him of rape, murder, blackmail, extortion, political assassination, and a number of misdemeanors. Every single one of the people in that court had their cross-hairs aimed at his head. Not a single one of them believed that he was innocent of the crime.

Not Ruby who claimed to have seen him carry the murder weapon with her own _eyes_.

Not Blake who he had done nothing but act kind towards. Yet crumbled like a _coward_ when she talked to the prosecutor.

Not Yang who he tried to make see that he was a simple guy with no intentions of hurting her sister. All she wanted to do was beat him to a bloody pulp with those oh so strong _fists_ of hers.

Not Weiss who he wanted nothing but the best for. She was too _high and mighty_ to be associated with a 'commoner'.

Not Ren or Nora that he had seen as brother and sister. Nora had been there as his _spine_ when he couldn't stand strong on his own. Ren had been the second hand. the person that he could _depend_ on when he was away. And even Pyrrha...

She threw him away as quick as the others. The fact that he was even accused of such charges would have damaged her image. It would have ruined her reputation as the _Invincible Girl_.

His family? His father never loved him. The beatings he received all the way before he left for Beacon were evident of that. His father would always lord his superior _strength_ over him.

His mother...she was just as big a culprit as his father. She never helped him. She never did _anything_. The only thing she did for him was birth him. She never cared for him. Never looked after him. _Nothing_.

The seven sisters that he thought loved him were only doing what they did because they _pitied_ him. There were few things of this world that he hated more than pity.

Not a single soul helped him in his time of need. Not a single person of the jury. Not the judge. Hell, not even his lawyer that was suppose to help defend him against the prosecutor! Memories of those people...of those _cretins_ flowed through his mind and he knew his answer for the older man.

"A bunch of no good pieces of shit saw something go wrong and decided that It was my fault. That's what happened. And believe me, when I get out of here. They are going to be begging for mercy as I hold them by their skulls." Jaune said, pure rage filling his voice. His eyes slightly dilated, teeth bare and his fists clenched till they turned white. Qrow looked at his face and saw just how _**angry**_ he got. He raised an eyebrow before smiling back at him again.

"I think I got just the cure for your concerns, Jaune. What you want to do is let that same anger control you in the ring. People love when a rage induced fighter tears through the other Gladiators. But you got to keep in mind that your anger can only carry you so far when it's uncontrolled. So lets make a deal; If you survive your first match, i'll personally train you in how to become the best damn Gladiator in all the Underground." Qrow offered, making Jaune momentarily forget about his anger. "And who knows, maybe you'll be like your ancestor and actually make it out of here. I'll even get a guy i know, Godot i think his name was, make you a new set of armor." Qrow concluded, causing Jaune to look at him in awe.

"But...why would you do all this for me? You hardly know me." Jaune asked. And Qrow dawned a more melancholy expression before responding.

"Look kid, I know that I wont be here for much longer. I'd give myself a maximum of five more years before I run out of things to spill my guts about. Then it's lights out for me. So i figured that if I was going to go out, then I'd make sure that I was able to help at least one person get out of this hellhole. I say that because...I tend to bring nothing but bad luck to people. Even to myself most of the time. It's actually how I ended up in this place funny enough. When I was out on a mission for the old Headmaster Ozpin, I was going to retrieve the Fall Maiden and take her back to the old wizard. But then my own sister comes in, attacks her, steals most of the Maidens powers from her with this other bimbo and then pits the blame on me before before handing me over to this dump. So it's kind of like how you ended up in here. Funny ain't it? How life can be so cruel?" Qrow chuckled out, looking up at the ceiling. Jaune looked at him a few more seconds in surprised awe.

"I...I get it. Thank you Qrow. I swear, if...when I make it back, I'll make sure that we'll make it out of here together. I swear it." Jaune promised, looking at Qrow in the eyes and holding out his hand to shake the older man's. Qrow was silent for a few moments before a sort of tired grin appeared on his face and took Jaune's hands into his own.

"I'd expect nothing less from the descendant of 'Vlad the Merciless'." Qrow said. The rest of Jaune's time there was spent getting to know more about Qrow and what he was like before he was thrown in this dumpster fire that was known as the Arena.

* * *

It had been another hour or so before there was a commotion at the door of the room and both Jaune and Qrow knew what that meant. So with a silent nod, Jaune got up and faced the door as it opened and a group of thugs appeared. The one in front looked at Jaune with hardened eyes, telling him all he needed to know. Jaune looked back to Qrow and gave an assuring nod. He heard one last thing before he was taken from the room and escorted to where he'd either send someone to Oum or meet the creator himself.

"Give 'em hell, kid!"

And hell he was going to bring.

* * *

As he was shoved into the small space that had been barred off from what was obviously the battlegrounds of the Arena itself, he was taking in Qrow's advice. Thinking about all those people that did him wrong. About all the people that he thought he could depend on. How they crippled him and fed him to the wolves. He hated them. He hated them all. And as his vision and senses were consumed by the amount of rage that was building up inside him, the gate that was separating him and the Arena was raised. His eyes snapped to the various other Gladiators that were already charging at each other. But that wasn't what he was seeing. Instead, as he thought more and more about the people that he's tried to help. The people that he's used his time to try and get to know. The people that he has went out of his way to console then when they needed it. The same people that turned their backs and let him be dragged to his undeserved purgatory.

Something snapped.

His mind was consumed by this weird feeling of being both all consuming rage but also of being in a state of normalcy. Like anger was the default setting of his brain that he has gotten used to. He could see everything clearly, yet all he wanted to do was kill...kill... **kill...kill.**

 **"Kill... _kill...kill...kill... kill...KILL...KILL...KILL!"_** Jaune all but screamed. Loud enough that nearly everyone in the stands looked over at the small opening that he was hiding in just before he rocketed out and went gunning for the other Gladiators. The audience just roared louder in excitement. They got to see more bloodshed. So they didn't care either way.

Jaune grit his teeth, clenched his teeth and cocked his arm back before throwing it with the force of a cannon ball. The other guy that hardly had time to turn to see him coming had his skull caved in due to a rage and Aura infused punch. Jaune looked at the now collapsed form of the fighter and then to his fist. The blood that was now on his hands as he had just killed another person. Though, instead of being disgusted with himself, or reeling from the fact, his faced twitch a few times before a deadly snarl made its way to his face. The sight of the blood...no, just the sight of anything was making his blood boil. There were no other emotions that were going through his mind. Right now.

There was only **RAGE.**

He then ducked under a swing from a sword that another fighter tried to use on the distracted blonde man. This only succeeded in making him angrier. So with a jump, Jaune grabbed the offending arm, kneed it at the elbow and broke it. Causing the other man to cry out in pain and drop the plain looking long sword. Jaune picked up the weapon quickly before spinning and slicing upwards with most of his strength, cutting off the arm of the man that was cradling his broken one. The man cried out even more and looked up at the young man with fear in his eyes.

"Wait! Please! Don't kill me! I'm begging you! I have a wi-"

Before he could finish his sentence, Jaune sunk the blade into the man's chest and through his heart, making him gasp. His eyes went wide before quickly rolling back, signifying his death. But Jaune wasn't done with him. He took out the sword, stabbing him again. And again. And again.

He kept going, stabbing the corpse until it was near unrecognizable. The sound of his voice and the desperation of his eyes just angered him more. His Aura flaring up and spinning around him. But it started to change. The color, which used to be pure white, was now starting to shift. From it's usual white and calm style, it's color was being tinted black. It was changing in a fashion that was akin to matter changing forms. It changed from looking like a river flowing upwards to something like a fire that thrashed all over the place. It caused gusts of wind to blow some of the Gladiators off their feet. Jaune looked to the rest of the Arena, seeing the faces of so many other people. All looking for the goal of killing each other. Then he looked to the audience that were now paying more attention to him and his display of both power and brutality. He looked down at himself, seeing all the blood that splattered on his hands and clothes. His vision focused on the red of the blood, his mind slowly overriding his usual morals and turning them to the one thing that would get him through this: **FIGHT.**

So he let out a mighty roar to the heavens and rushed the remaining _obstacles_ in his way. His Aura flaring and generating a scorching heat. The other competitors tried to fight back by charging him all at once.

The first guy to reach him had a rusted scimitar, poised and ready to slice his head off. Though, Jaune was able to swing his sword first and broke the offending weapon with how much force he put behind the slash. He then swung again and sliced his throat open so much that his head swung limply from what little was attached to his body. When he turned, he saw three other men carrying daggers. Once they saw what he did to the first guy, they hesitated and stopped rushing him. He took advantage of this and rushed up to the closest one to him, grabbed a handful of his overgrown hair and brought it down to his raised knee, breaking his nose and fracturing his skull. From there, he grabbed the dagger from his hand, turned around to deflect the attack coming from one of the other two and kicked him away. He turned to the third one, who was wisely staying back.

Jaune took one step forward, making the man take one back. So while Jaune knew that the other guy was thinking that he was going to psych him out by walking slowly, he lunged forward and drove the dagger into the mans chest. To his credit, the man grit his teeth before retaliating with his own dagger which was aimed for his throat. Jaune glared at he object before he focused his Aura. When the dagger made contact with his neck, it promptly shattered against the force-field of his Aura. It was then that Jaune jumped back, tearing the dagger out of the fighter's chest and swung the long sword down on his skull, splitting it in two. Blood sprayed everywhere and covered Jaune in the crimson liquid. He then heard a ragged breath come from his left, seeing the guy that he kicked earlier was back onto his feet and dagger in hand. He looked over to the guy with the broken nose and observed that he was still groaning on the ground trying to gather himself.

"You...you have that mark!" The guy shouted, pointing a finger at the brand on his neck. Jaune brought up a hand to touch the still tender scar, feeling a sort of power coming from it. The man shouted again, this time much louder for people to hear. "YOU HAVE THE MARK OF 'VLAD THE MERCILESS'!"

This time, everyone in the Arena and those in the stands turned to look at him. A camera that was placed on top of the barrier of the ring turned and focused on the mark on his skin, broadcasting it to a giant screen high above the Arena. There were murmurs among the crowd as talks of a person that was a descendant of Vlad went around. Most people were speaking of the alleged 'fraud'. In fact, it would seem that everyone was speaking ill of the Arena Legend. All but two people.

They saw someone that could boost their profits up big time.

These two people were Roman Torchwick, and Neo.

* * *

Roman, the top criminal of Vale, was smoking on his cigar and smiling to himself. It seemed like he was right in getting him in here. All he needed to do now was become his sponsor. And seeing as no one else would be willing to take on the descendant of Vlad, it wouldn't be that hard. From there, if he really was right, then the kid would become a real force of nature, rack in mad profits before eventually dying. It was a given that everyone in that cesspool would die eventually, but he was going to profit as much as possible before the little money dispenser eventually broke. Though he would have to make sure to stay on his good side. Seeing how he was handling the situation down there, he could be a threat to him if he ever pissed him off. But the payout would be absolutely worth it. Not only will he be rich beyond compare, with how much rep he'd get around here, he wouldn't be surprised if he became one of the big five somewhere down the road. But right now, he was going to sit back and enjoy the show.

"Hey Neo, you think that this one could be the one? I certainly think so." He asked his small partner in crime. Neo looked up from her tub of ice cream and looked down to the young man that was now ripping apart the competition. She saw the anger in his eyes, but then when she looked deeper, she could actually see the pain behind them as well. He wasn't too bad to look at either. Tall, moderately built, blonde, blue eyes. She smirked before going back to eating her frozen treat.

Roman chuckled to himself before turning away and dropping his smile. He hadn't told Neo of his plans for the used to be Huntsman in training. Mostly because he didn't trust her. Sure they worked together, but the thing was, she was gunning for his head. It has been a long ride, sure, but he could tell that she was going to double-cross her and take everything he had as her own. weather it was his own paranoia or if he was right was up for debate, but he has not gotten to be Vale's biggest criminal by not taking precautions. So he didn't tell her about how he purposefully got a descendant of 'Vlad the Merciless' accused of murdering a Council member and thrown in here. And he wouldn't even know that he's the one that ordered her death. Though the rape was hard to cover up thanks to a lackey that was out of line. He had prepared some for this occasion and was able to trick whatever device they used to check the 'essence' to think it was the Arc's. So with some well placed bribes and blackmails, he got himself a grade A killing machine.

Everything was coming up Roman.

* * *

With most of the other fighters now mutilated and dead, Jaune stood in the middle of it all, holding the last man by the throat and looking into his eyes with his own filled with anger at the fact that he was even _breathing_. He brought up his sword that he had stolen at the beginning of the free for all, which was now a handle with a jagged edge at this point, ready to drive it into the victims skull. But then there was a rumbling and he looked up to see one of the giant gates that released the fighters in the first place was opening again. In his distraction, the man under him brought up his short sword and slashed the young man across the face. This caused him to let go of the man and hold the bleeding gash that went from his jaw, over his right eye and to the top of his forehead. He used what he could of his Aura and tried to heal it, but it wouldn't close all the way. He could at least still see out of his right eye though, so he could at least count his blessings for that. But then he looked over to see the same man that had given him the injury running to the open gate and was going to chase after him, but then heard a familiar sound of something screeching from the darkness of the opening. The man didn't pay it any heed and kept sprinting towards his supposed 'salvation'. Right when he was going to go within the confines of the darkness did a giant golden stinger come down on top of him and savagely impaled him through the chest. The stinger then was brought back to where it came from, it's glow illuminating the body of a Giant Deathstalker.

Jaune's eyes widened before he looked around and saw that there was a decent looking broad sword he could use and quickly grabbed it. He then turned back to the now scuttling Deathstalker and prepared himself for a fight.

The first thing the Grim did was bring down an over sized pincer on him that he was able to effectively roll away from. He then ran behind the scorpion to try and gain some sort of advantage before it's stinger bent backwards and tried to impale him. He jumped back and took a swing at it, making a little gash in the stinger with some of the golden ooze seeping out from it. The Grim screeched again before quickly turning around and trying to smash him again with its other pincer. This time he jumped above it and ran along its arm and went up to its face. Having to dodge another attack from its stinger, he then saw that a small drop of the golden liquid dropped onto the bone plating and melted right through. He gained a smirk on his face before quickly swinging his sword at the stinger once more. But before that could happen, his left leg was grabbed by one of it's pincers. It then dragged him off its head and just as quickly grabbed his free hand with it's other pincer, effectively trapping him.

He could already guess what was going to happen and he struggled even harder against it's grip. But it closed its claws even tighter, digging into his flesh and destroying half of his left arm and breaking everything below his left knee. He shouted out in both pain and anger. The Deathstalker then proceeded to hold him in place as it's stinger raised itself, ready to impale him and rip him in half. So Jaune looked up at it, then at his mangled leg and to his sword before thinking for a brief moment.

"I'm really going to hate this!" He shouted before he brought up his sword and swung it down on his own knee. It wasn't a clean cut by any means, but it was enough for the force of the Grim pulling to rip off the limb and send him flying up after the other pincer let go. He grit his teeth and looked back down at the now shocked Grim. He yelled at the top of his lungs as he was falling and spun around before cutting the stinger off completely. While he was still on it's back and the Deathstalker started thrashing around, he got up as quickly as he could and saw that the stinger was directly on top of the monster's head.

 _'I don't have much-ungh-time. I have to end this. NOW!'_ Jaune thought. He then let out a roar and leaped to the stinger and sliced the stinger into pieces and unleashed the acidic contents of the object. It almost instantly melted the entirety of his blade before it seeped into the Giant Deathstalker. It screeched a bit louder before suddenly going stalk still and collapsing a few seconds later.

Jaune stayed there leaning on his one good arm and leg. He took a few more ragged breaths before he straitened himself on his one knee and let out one last shout to the sky, proclaiming his victory in this battle. For on this day, he knew that he was going to keep his promise to his grandmother. He was going to keep fighting for what he wanted. And if he had to fight tooth and nail, if he had to kill countless people and Grim to get to his goal of getting his revenge on those that have wronged him, then he would do so gladly.

He will be the successor of Vlad the Merciless.

* * *

Up in the V.I.P section of the Arena, the Big Five of the Underworld had just watched what transpired down on the Arena floor. With one Jaune Arc butchering everyone and everything that got in his way. All ending with the death of the Deathstalker. The room was shrouded in darkness, shadowing all but one of their faces. The only one that was visible was Mr. 1 who was sitting in an office chair behind a rather large table. To either of his sides were three others. Each of them inspecting the footage of the young man. It was Mr. 1 himself that spoke up first.

"This should be interesting. Another Arc in the Arena. And with such promise as well." He stated, bringing his glass of scotch up to his face before taking a drink. One of the other people to his right spoke up after him.

"Mr. 1...are you sure that keeping him here is a wise choice? What if he ends up escaping like the last one?" another man asked in a rather deep and rough voice. His silhouette told of a rather imposing figure, being slightly taller than Mr. 1, yet still held some fear for the man.

"Mr. 2, there is no need to fear. Our predecessors learned from their mistakes and have sought to rectify them. If anything, all we would have to do is take care of him ourselves if it comes down to it." He responded in an even tone, never once letting his eyes leave the screen. But then another two voices spoke up, one being a rather husky sounding female and the other sounding narcissistic.

"No need to worry Mr. 2, with those injuries, it's almost guaranteed that he'll die within the next two matches." They both spoke in sync. Mr. 2 grumbled a bit before sighing and then decided to bring up another subject.

"Fine then. Though, if I may ask, where is Mr. 5?" Mr. 2 inquired. Mr. 1 finally looked away from the screen as it turned off and turned to Mr. 2.

"Mr. 5 is currently going down to meet this Arc and tell him what he needs to have in order to be anything down here. As for his injuries...call it an educated guess, but I feel as though that will hardly stop him." He said, getting up from his chair and walking his way towards the elevator.

"Now excuse me Lady and Gentlemen, I must see to business with a certain Witch."

* * *

 **Omake: The _Actual_ Reason **

As Jaune sat there talking with Qrow and listening to the adventures that he had as a Huntsman before he had to go out and fight in his first Arena match. Jaune was starting to see a small pattern and was starting to doubt the reason he gave why he was down here in the first place.

"Hold on...Qrow, I'm hearing how you had this nice house, how you could afford this really cool stuff, but...i'm starting to wonder something." Jaune inquired, making the old man stop and look at him in confusion.

"What's up? Did you not understand something that I said?" Qrow asked. Jaune shook his head before explaining further.

"Hunters can only make so much, and even with a family of amazing Hunters...you shouldn't have been able to buy a house without a mortgage, a nice car, all that good furniture, quality booze whenever you wanted, take care of a family, and be able to buy whatever...not when you have to consider the fact that you'd have to pay taxes annually..." Jaune said, starting to piece together what might have actually happened to Qrow to land him in here. Qrow on his end was starting to get nervous. He was dangerously close to finding out the true reason that he was given to the Arena. So he decided that coming clean and admitting it now would be better than being ratted out by someone that he just met that day. Plus, it had already been done, and he was already in here, so it wasn't all that bad, right?

"Okay okay okay. You got me. The real reason that I was thrown in here..." Qrow started, tensing up at what he was about to say. Jaune looked on in interest and curiosity. That just made the situation worse, and Qrow just mumbled the answer too low for Jaune to hear.

"What?"

He mumbled again just a tiny bit louder, but not at all tangible yet

"I'm sorry, I still can't hear you."

"...-sion." Qrow said to the side. Jaune could barely hear the tail end of what he was saying so he got a little closer and turned his head so that he could hear better.

"Qrow, I can't hear what you're saying. Could you say it a little louder?" Jaune asked, getting a little closer. Qrow grumbled before letting out a sigh and speaking clearly, but with obvious hints of shame.

"...I committed Felony Tax Evasion." He said.

Jaune turned his head back to face him and looked at him for a few seconds.

.

..

...

"Oof."

* * *

 **Y'ello my audience members. This was the next chapter of The Fall From Grace. It was pretty exciting no? I thought it was at least. But anyway, the usual shtick of my ending Authors Notes is as usual. I love you all, go check out the new Poll I have set up after you go visit the other Story Idea Dump I posted and I'll see you all in another chapter. Toodles~!**


	4. May The Money Stack High Like The Bodies

**Hello everyone! We're back here again with another chapter of The Fall From Grace. I'm sure some of you have noticed that the pairing for this story has changed from just Jaune and Neo to Jaune with both Neo and Penny. Now, you may be asking me, 'But Konshiro-kun, Penny would want to stop Jaune from what he's doing. Plus, she's Ruby's friend." I understand. But to make something clear, Jaune and Penny will have multiple encounters as Jaune does various things to get to his ultimate prize and that he will slowly disillusion her with what she is and what that meant...hm? what's that? That's not the question you wanted to ask? Then what is it?...Oh. How will he be able to 'get it on' with a robot? That...is a good question. But thankfully, I have already thought of that. A simple change is all that I would need to do. She becomes a Cyborg. Anyway, I've talked long enough, Let's get back to the story!**

* * *

Whether or not Jaune realized it, he had been unconscious for the past seven hours since his first fight in the Arena. About three or four hours ago, the 'doctors' had tried to wake him up so that he could get ready for his daily routine.

All gladiators within the Arena had certain things that they needed to do that was mandatory within the Arena. It operated much like a prison actually. But at least a prison would protect its occupants from the other inmates. It was either swim or sink. There was of course, a limit to how many people could die within such a time frame however. There had to be enough people to fight after all. Things like meals were determined on how well you had done in your fight along with what your title was. The common Gladiator would get the minimal rations, as one might expect. The highest ranked fighters all had sponsors. They could eat like kings. Full banquets would be layed out for them. This was only because whatever money they had spent on the food would be payed back tenfold in their next match. Either way though, the House always won. No matter who died. No matter who lived. No matter who live or died. That was the way of the Arena.

However, as the medical personnel had attempted to wake him, a certain individual came by and told them to do otherwise.

* * *

 **(Flashback)**

 _"Wake him up. It's almost time to feed the rodents. If he is able to do what he did before, then we might be able to get a pay raise like today. We could actually eat something like a burger. I'm sick and tired of the usual slop we get. I'm not sure what they even use in that crap." One of the men said, remembering the brownish substance that they passed off as food around here._

 _Yet as the other guy was about to shake the blonde up from his rest, a voice had cleared their throat to garner their attention. When the two men turned to the person that had entered the room, they instantly froze and recognized the man as one of the Big Five!_

 _"Gentlemen! Enchanté! Mr. 5 at your service." Mr. 5 stated in a rather smooth voice that betrayed his character, bowing and taking his top hat off to do so. Though, when he stood back up, he smiled devilishly. "Or should I say, your at my service?" He finished, making the other two men in the room shiver._

 _Mr. 5, was the weakest out of the small group of people that ran the Arena. Though, arguably, he was one of the most dangerous. Not for his fighting skills, even though he could beat nearly everyone with his rather unorthodox fighting style, but for the fact that he had 'friends' everywhere. There was not a single place on Remnant that he did not have contacts in. All those different strings to pull and all of them were held in the hands of one dangerous man. If he so pleased, he could choose to pull in the right places and send half of an entire continent into the dark ages. He also made it a necessity to make sure he had dirt on nearly everyone in the Arena. Even his fellow members. But not Mr. 1_

 _Not Mr. 1._

 _"S-sir, what brings you here?" The one closest to him asked, looking at the rather fashionably dressed man and his clothing._

 _Mr. 5 had chosen to where his normal attire today out of all his other outfits for the day. He wore a mostly velvet suit, covering his rather lanky arms. Though the blazer had covered up to his forearms and the pink shirt underneath had only covered his chest, showing his rather athletic looking abdomen. His pants that were of the same color as his blazer, had seemed stretched over his long legs, ending at his loafer covered feet. Around his neck was a necklace of teeth from those who...hadn't payed their due. In his hand was a cane that looked more for fashion than for anything else. But to anyone that had seen him fight, they knew that it was far from the truth. On top of his head was a tall top hat. adorned with a feather on the side. Overall, he was the personification of confidence. Though, there were rumors that he had made a pact with some unsavory forces. 'friends from the other side' he called them._

 _"Charles, Charles! No need to be afraid. You payed your due this month. You haven't violated our contract. No need to worry. I just wanted to come on by and check on the...new recruit." Mr. 5 said, hooking an arm around Charles, talking quickly and smoothly. His tone and voice often lured people into his trap, and when they had finally realized what had happened, they were already in debt to him. Charles himself was nervous, even though he knew that he had done everything that Mr. 5 had requested of him this month, you would have to be a fool to let your guard down around this man._

 _The man across the room gulped before answering the tall demon in front of them._

 _"The Arc has been unconscious for the past two hours. We were going to wake him just now when you came in. Did you want anything, sir?" He asked, already walking to the small fridge that was reserved for any of the 'celebrities' that came in there. Though, if they were in there in the first place, then they wouldn't be around for much longer. So the only real users of the fridge were the Big Five. Even then, they only came down when they wanted to inspect the conditions of the medical bay, or to 'replace' one of the doctors._

 _Mr. 5 smiled, letting Charles go before walking over to a small table and taking a seat, letting his cane lean against it while he lifted his legs onto the table._

 _"Ah, Jamie, you know me too well. Get me a cup of rum. With ice if you can." Mr. 5 'requested', but both Jamie and Charles knew that he was telling them to get it or else. So Jamie got what was demanded and placed them on the table carefully. He really was scared about this visit from Mr. 5, because unlike Charles, he hadn't payed his due yet._

 _"There you are, sir." Jamie said, trying to skirt away until he felt something land on his shoulder. He gulped to see that Mr. 5 hand taken his cane and used it to lay on Jamie's shoulder. Mr. 5 himself had an all too eager smile._

 _"Now hold on there, Jamie. I know you're not dumb. And I would hope you know that I am no fool either. So you know what I'm talking about when I'm going to ask you to hand it over." Mr. 5 said in a low voice. Jamie stiffened a bit more before cursing himself in his mind as he responded to him._

 _"I...I don't have it on me." Jamie said cautiously. Mr. 5 didn't respond at first, but quickly started laughing in a jovial manner._

 _"Oh Jamie, you just crack me up. Though, not as much as I'm going to start cracking a few other things if you don't explain to me why you don't have what I asked." Mr. 5 responded in a chilling voice. The pressure on Jamie's shoulder increased as his eyes widened in fear. He was quick to answer as he didn't want to add to the collection of teeth around Mr. 5's neck._

 _"I-I-I have it in my sleeping quarters! I swear, I'll give it to you tomorrow!" Jamie exclaimed, trying to save his own skin. The pressure stayed on his shoulder for a bit before it let up, making him sigh in relief before Mr. 5's chilling voice spoke up again._

 _"I'll expect it first thing in the morning. And I'm doubling your due next month. No exceptions." He stated darkly, his hat shadowing his eyes. Jamie was counting his blessings as he was going to thank him, though, Mr. 5 looked up, his dark lavender eyes glowing a bit. "Leave. You're dampening my mood." He said as he stared right into Jamie's eyes. Jamie had stopped what he was going to say before quickly complying and rushing out of the room. After the door shut, Mr. 5 let a breath out, seemingly shifted back to his old jovial mood. He turned to Charles, who jumped at the shift of attention to him. Mr. 5 spoke up after taking a sip of his drink._

 _"Sorry about that Charles, but you know how it is. People like him make me a bit angry. But enough of that, let's get back to what I'm here for. The Arc...I'm going to need to give him some prosthetics. Can't have him hobbling all over the place. Though, I can't think of any willing volunteers to be his sponsor and give him any." Mr. 5 stated, rubbing his chin. It was then that someone else had entered the room and answered him._

 _"I think I can be of some use in that department."_

 _Both Mr. 5 and Charles turned to the new visitor and saw that it was none other than Roman Torchwick himself. Mr. 5 raised an eyebrow at this, but chuckled to himself either way. Roman was a slippery fellow. And almost as quick witted as himself, actually. Though, if there was one thing that he had disliked about the well dressed criminal was that he didn't have any leverage on Roman himself. But that in and of itself was enough to get Mr. 5's respect._

 _"Ah, Roman! How do you do? What's this about you being the Arc's sponsor?" He questioned, standing up and greeting the master criminal with a handshake. Roman chuckled before walking over to the bed Jaune was in and stood over his unconscious body. He had opted to not bring Neo with him, as she had been busy with something else. But he had brought with him a duffel bag._

 _"Yes, well, I knew that no one else would want to be one for him, considering he's a descendant of 'Vlad The Merciless'. So I'm taking the opportunity while I still can." Roman explained, turning to Mr. 5. The other man hummed, slightly grimacing at the mention of 'Vlad'. However, he quickly switched back to his grinning personality._

 _"Of course. You would know when there was gold to be dug up. Though, I don't know how large this one nugget will get you." Mr. 5 said, not really knowing how this Arc would be of use to him. Seeing as how he already lost two limbs. But Roman walked over to another operating table and placed his duffel bag down on top of it._

 _"Ah, but even a small nugget can earn you a fortune if you play your cards right." Roman said, unzipping the bag to reveal cybernetic limbs. He had went out to buy them after the match, knowing that Jaune would need them to fight on. Not to mention, he needed to start building the kids trust if he ever wanted to get the most out of this._

 _Mr. 5 smirked a bit larger as he nodded, taking his glass before downing the rest of it in one fell swoop. He had done all that he needed here. He also knew what Roman would want. So he would have to get some things ready._

 _"Charles." Mr. 5 addressed as he started walking to the door. Charles jumped again at being called upon. "I'm going to need you to attach those limbs to Mr. Torchwick's Gladiator. I'll have your new medical assistant help you with the process within the hour." He said, already in the door frame when Charles asked him a question after he had felt brave enough._

 _"New assistant? What about Jamie?" He asked. Mr. 5 turned his head to him before gesturing to the chain around his neck._

 _"Why, he's going to be helping me make this necklace a little better. I've been itchin' to get myself some maulers on these. Last I checked, Jamie had some acceptable one's himself." He explained, laughing as he left. They could still hear his laughter when the door slammed closed by itself._

 **(End Of Flashback)**

* * *

Shortly after the meeting, Both Charles and his new partner, Petra, had taken the limbs and attached them to Jaune's body as he was still out. They made sure that he stayed asleep as they used some sedatives. Now, seven hours after the match, Jaune had finally awoken, slowly starting to take in his surroundings. When he raised his right hand to rub his head, it took him a second to realize that the hand wasn't real.

"Gah!" Jaune exclaimed, surprised at the mechanical extension. He calmed down after a moment, remembering how he had lost his arm to the Deathstalker. He sighed in resignation before realizing that he also lost his left leg in the fight as well. He looked down to see that there was also a robotic limb in place of the original one. At that he grimaced before he looked at the limbs a bit more closely.

The arm was simple enough. The inner workings seemed to rely on a single Electric Dust Crystal. When he looked to his leg, he noticed that they were of the same model. Further inspection dictated that most of the inner workings of both limbs were exposed. he flexed his artificial fingers and saw the different pistons move inside. He placed his arm down before looking down at his leg and saw that the foot was a solid piece of metal with two separated pieces acting as the 'toes'. He decided that he had probably overstayed his welcome and got out of the bed, still wearing the torn and bloodied orange jumpsuit he had been forced to wear for his trial. Both sleeves had been torn, along with the pant legs. His chest was nearly out in the open, but was otherwise alright.

He looked from left to right before seeing a door. He moved to walk to it before a voice spoke from behind him.

"Hey there Blondie. Are you not going to say hi to you're new sponsor?" Roman said, walking out of the darkness. Jaune tensed his muscles, getting ready to fight before Roman raised his hands as if to signal that he didn't want to hurt him.

"Hey hey hey, no need for that. I didn't come here to kill you. I actually came here for the exact opposite." Roman continued, showing Jaune a piece of paper that had Jaune raising his brow at the title.

 **Blood** **Pact**

* * *

After Roman explained what happened when Jaune was unconscious and the fact that Roman was the only person to really want him as a Gladiator, Jaune sat down and thought about the situation. There were worse things to have been in. Though, he could hardly find himself getting out of here as an independent fighter. In order to make any money, he had to have a sponsor. So with some reluctance he reached for the pen, but before he took it, he remembered something he promised to Qrow.

"I'll sign, under one condition." Jaune said, looking Roman directly in the eyes. Roman had tilted his head to the side, not knowing what he could have wanted. Though, for the sake of his plan, he was going to listen. And if it benefited him, then he would probably agree.

"And what might that be?" He asked. Jaune looked to the ground for a moment before looking back up at Roman.

"I want you to take Qrow as a Fighter as well." Jaune demanded. For a moment, Roman was going to write off the moment, not really realizing who this 'Qrow' was until it hit him who that was supposed to be. He remembered talk of an 'Old Bird' and how he was a really good fighter a while ago. But they had to retire him as he was getting too close to gaining his freedom. So to have that as his Fighter as well? The more the merrier!

"Of course, Blondie! Why not?" Roman said, agreeing to the terms. He handed the pen to Jaune as he signed the contract. Though, he would have put in some fine print that would put himself better off than Jaune, he was thankful that he didn't as he saw Jaune reading through the entire thing. It would seem that he knew what he was doing. That was both good and bad. But that wasn't here nor there. So with some more formalities out of the way, They had done their business.

Jaune was then escorted back to his cell that he shared with Qrow. He could see that it was night time when he entered by looking through the small 'window' of the room. Though, he had his focus shift as he saw Qrow rise to his feet, a relieved look on his face as he saw that Jaune had indeed, not died. Though, he grew a bit more worried when he saw that the blonde was now sporting a new arm and a leg.

"Jaune, you survived...what happened to your arm? And your leg?" Qrow asked. Jaune sighed before bringing up his fake arm in front of himself.

"They got cut off as I had to fight a Giant Deathstalker. One was completely smashed by it's pincers while I had to cut off my leg lest I got torn in half by it's stinger. I was given new ones by our new sponsor...oh, by the way, we have a new sponsor now." Jaune said, clenching and unclenching his fist. Qrow was silent for a moment, not really knowing how to feel about that.

"A new...sponsor. I haven't had one of those in a very long time." Qrow said, walking back to his usual resting spot before looking at a seemingly random part of the cell. Qrow was snapped put of it when he thought about who would want to be the sponsor for a descendant of 'Vlad The Merciless'. There were very few people that would be willing to do that. So he had one more question...or, two really.

"Who's the sponsor? And why did he take me as well?" Qrow asked, making the blonde let out a breath before deciding that it wasn't all that much of a problem.

"His name is Roman Torchwick. He had me sign a contract, but I said that I would only do it if he took you as a Fighter as well." Jaune said, smiling as he walked over to his already established resting place and sitting down. Qrow looked to Jaune, surprised at the consideration.

"Thanks, Jaune. You didn't have to do that. He could have just refused you If he wanted. So why did you?" Qrow asked again, not knowing the reasoning of the generosity of the blonde dark knight. Jaune chuckled a but before telling him his reason, as if it were just common sense.

"I made a promise to you. And an Ar... _I_ , never break my promises." Jaune said, correcting his sentence before he became angry again. Qrow caught on to it either way, but chose not to say anything about it. But he did smile at the young man. It had been a long time since he found someone willing to keep their promise. Especially once it promised them a way out of this hellish place.

"I...If the situation were to be any different, I would honest to god want to adopt you." Qrow said, with some level of seriousness. Jaune smiled at him before nodding his head in an appreciative manner.

"No Problem Qrow. Consider it a thank you for wanting to help me. Though, I'm not too keen on having a father after my last one. A brother would sound nice. Or maybe an uncle." Jaune said, amusing the idea. Qrow pursed his lips at the uncle part, but decided to let it go.

"Maybe not an uncle. A brother will have to do then." Qrow commented, sitting back and looking out the window.

They sat there in relative silence for a moment before Jaune remembered something that Roman had handed him. A stack of Credits for them to use. Credits were what amounted to money down here. Since some new law passed that could monitor where Lien was being used and how, the Underworld had to come up with a common trading expense for them to use. And thus, Credits. You could use them anywhere in the Underworld and were earned within the Arena. You gain money by betting on certain Gladiators. Much like gambling, the higher the risk, the higher the payout. But Jaune hadn't really known just how many Credits that Roman had given him.

"Oh, hey Qrow, Roman also gave us these Credits. He said that it was an investment and that we should use it wisely. I'm not sure how much their worth, but he gave me a bag full of them." Jaune said, pulling a decent sized bag from behind him and bringing it out. Qrow slowly moved his head to the side to see what Jaune was talking about before his eyes widened.

"Holy shit. Jaune, that entire bag is filled with Credits?" Qrow asked, moving towards the blonde man with his eyes on the pouch. Jaune nodded before handing it to the older gentleman. When it was in his hands, Qrow opened it and looked inside, almost not believing his eyes.

"Jaune."

"Yeah Qrow?"

"I think we have a shot at getting out of here."

* * *

 **Alright everyone, that was another chapter of The Fall From Grace. We saw another member of the Big Five. If any of you can guess who he is supposed to be, and lets be honest it's pretty obvious, you get a pat on the back along with a cookie. Now another thing, I want to make something clear, Jaune will most likely not _kill_ teams RWBY or the rest of team JNPR, but that doesn't mean that they're going to be let go Scott free. No, they will be facing _much_ worse. But anyway, that's enough from me. I'm sure some of you have places to be. As do I. So I leave this chapter to work on another. I'll see you there. Toodles~!**


	5. Counting on The Worst

**Hello Everyone! We are back with another chapter of The Fall From Grace. Now last time, we saw that things were starting to come into place. What we are going to see in the future is starting to look more and more promising. Now some of you have started speculating about what is going to happen in the future. Now I can't confirm or deny anything, but I can say that some of you are close to what I have planned. But I digress! All things in due time! Today, we see that both Jaune and Qrow spend their first day in under the Blood Pact with Roman. So without further ado, here's the next chapter!**

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 **Also, sorry for the long wait. My B.**

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Jaune looked to Qrow with intrigue. Qrow would probably know a bit more about how everything worked around here, so there must have been a reason as to why he looked at the sack of Credits in his hands like it were a ticket to heaven.

"I get that these are the currency of the Underworld and all, but there are only like, a hundred or so of those things in here. I don't think these are all that expensive, right?" Jaune asked as Qrow chuckled in mild amusement. Not all that much?

"Kid, listen to me. Most things down here can be bought with just _one_ Credit. The more expensive things can be bought with just twenty of them. Credits are a very powerful resource. They're so powerful because the Big Five purposefully keep as little of them in circulation as possible. The less currency there is in the system, the bigger the spending power. And since they can't use regular Lien, and because the Big Five enforce it, they have to use Credits. But with the little amount in the system, people have to go to the extremes to get it. Such as sponsoring Gladiators, or gambling on said Gladiators. I think this Roman guy hit it big when he gambled on you. I don't even think that this was half of what he won honestly. But that just means that we can go get you better equipment." Qrow explained, giving Jaune a brief explanation of the economy. Jaune took the information given and looked down at the Credits in his hand with a bit more intrigue and surprise. If that were the case, then he had a boat load of money in his hands!

"Damn, that's...god. What did you have in mind?" Jaune asked as he looked to Qrow for answers. The older gentleman held up a finger to silently ask him to wait a moment. Jaune looked at the retired Huntsman as he went to a particular corner of the cell and grabbed hold of one of the rather large bricks in the wall before pulling on it with all his might, causing the old stone and dust to pull from it. At first, Jaune thought that Qrow had somehow made a tunnel for them to escape from, but was proven wrong when he saw something else. It was a weapon. _His_ weapon.

"Ha! I've been waiting for a chance to use this old thing again. It's my weapon from even before I got thrown in here. It carried me through my Gladiator days before they forced me to resign by killing my Sponsor. My main weapon, Reaper." Qrow announced, bringing it out from it's hiding place after so many years. It was dirtied, looking to have gotten dirt into it's inner workings, but It could still be used. It's current form was a simple sword. Though, Jaune noted that it was a rather large one. The blade seemed to have segments to it, as if to allow the blade to shift for some reason. Although, with obvious neglect, it wouldn't be doing any kind of shifting any time soon. Jaune also noticed that there was a sort of clip near the hilt that told of a long range function as well.

"Alright, that's pretty cool, but what are we supposed to do about it? It's obviously worn and rusted, and you obviously have a plan. So I ask again, what did you have in mind?" Jaune asked, seeing that Qrow was trying his best to either shake or rub some of the dirt that had made it's way into his weapon. It took him a few seconds to really realize that it wouldn't do anything and put it down, but for what he had planned, he wouldn't need to.

"My plan is that we go out to the market, go over to a friend of mine and have my weapon repaired while also getting you a new set of weapons." Qrow said, making Jaune nod. He could see where he was going with that. With Qrow having his weapon in top shape, and him having his own, they would be able to at least scrape by in the next fight where they would be able to rack in more Credits and maybe even earn more than what they did today. It was a solid plan, though there was the problem of getting to the market in the first place.

"Alright, sounds solid. But how are we going to get to the market? I'm not sure they're going to let us go out on our own." Jaune said, looking doubtful of Qrow's plan. Qrow simply smirked at him, took his blade and cut the chain that was holding him down before walking his way over to the door.

"Just watch." Qrow said, now in front of the door. He then knocked on it twice getting the attention of the guard down the hall.

"What do you want?" The guard asked gruffly. Qrow still maintained that smirk before answering.

"We need to go to the market, our sponsor wanted us to go out and buy him some supplies." Qrow said, making Jaune look to him curiously. Sure, Roman did say to make the most out of the Credits given, but he didn't specifically instruct them to go out and buy stuff.

"Oh yeah? Who'd want to sponsor a rickety old bird and a descendant of _Vlad_?" The guard asked with a mocking tone. Qrow was going to answer with a witty remark about his mother, something of the debauchery kind, where he would then lure the guard over to him, grab him, threaten his life with the shiv in his pocket and force him to let them do their business and say nothing about it. However, luck seemed to be on his side today, ironically enough, as the very Sponsor they had been contracted by was entering the hall.

"That would be me. Roman Torchwick. And yes, I did inform them that I was in need of something from the market, so if you would so kindly release them from that cage, that would be great." Roman stated, flashing the guard the contract that he had Jaune sign before gesturing him to open the door. The man stood there for a moment before complying, thinking that he wasn't payed enough to really care in the first place. When he unlocked the door and allowed the two Gladiators to leave, he closed it behind them and walked off to who knows where.

"Roman, thanks for the help. I thought that you went out do get your partner or something?" Jaune asked as he eyed the well dressed criminal. Roman smirked before gesturing to his side, where it seemed that nothing was there before there was a shattering of glass. It was then that Jaune's voice died in his throat.

There stood a rather mischievous looking woman, with white overcoat with pink highlights, brown formfitting pants, black gloves, knee-high white boots and a plethora of necklaces around her neck. Besides her was an umbrella. It was unassuming at fist glance, but one would be a fool to let your guard down when around this little tyrant. Even with her brown and pink orientated hair and eye color scheme, she was not one to be taken lightly. This was Roman's sidekick, Neopolitan. Or just Neo for short.

The woman herself was quite short, but her figure told of anything but a child. Jaune had only looked at her for a brief moment, but in that moment, he looked into those bi-colored eyes and felt a spark. A jolt in his system that he hadn't felt before. She in turn smirked at him, having felt the same thing, and already liking the person that her partner had picked as his Gladiator. But Jaune was taken out of his trance as quickly as he went into it when Roman spoke up.

"Luckily, Neo here was close by when I went looking for her. And lucky for _you_ , I came in just in time before your friend here slit that guys throat. That would have been a bit of a mess. Certainly can't have you going around killing people...well, outside of the Arena of course." Roman said, gesturing to the older man. Qrow looked at him up and down, getting a feel for the guy that was supposed to be sponsoring Jaune and himself. So far, there was an uneasy air around him. Not unlike someone with ulterior motives. Though, to be fair, who _didn't_ have ulterior motives down here? Either way, at the very least, Roman made their trip to the Black Market go by smoother than he had planned.

"So you're the guy sponsoring me and the kid. Can't say it's nice to meet ya, but I do appreciate it." Qrow said, nodding to the criminal. Roman in turn let out a small hum before turning around.

"The feeling is mutual Old Bird. Now go on and do your business, Neo and I have things to take care of elsewhere. Your next fight should happen somewhere in the next two days. I expect great money to come from you two. Come along Neo, we can't keep that bank waiting. With that amount of money, I'd be able to buy a new suit for myself." Roman said as he started walking away. He turned to see that Neo had given him a look, to which Roman let out a sigh of surrender to before the two were out of the building.

"Yes, we can get you as much Ice-cream as you want as well. I still don't understand how you keep that figure when you eat so much sugar." Roman voice echoed as they were out of the room. From there, both Qrow and Jaune ignored them as his voice continued to grow farther in distance.

Jaune was still a little confused as to what that feeling was when he saw Neo. Was it recognition? No, he'd remember such a pretty face if he'd seen it before. Fear? Not likely. Perhaps an infatuation then. She was quite pretty after all. But aside from that, he needed to get new gear before their next fight!

"Alright kid, let's go. That friend I mentioned before can get us what we need. I'll call in a favor he owes me to get my weapon fixed, that way we don't have to spend too many Credits on that. As for your gear, we're going to have to go light for now. That frame of yours is mediocre, so we'll focus on speed for now. But when I train you, you're going to have to rely on more than just your wits and your agility. Strength is going to be a large factor when your fighting against the likes of a Beringal. I'm surprised they only sent you into a fight with a Deathstalker. Though, next time, I'm certain they won't be so generous." Qrow stated as he walked out through the building with Jaune following close behind. The young man nodded to everything he was saying with utmost attention. All of what he said was true. He didn't have much training prior to being thrown in here. With his former partner having only trained him for a few months, he was at a slightly above average build. He got lucky in his fight before. But with Qrow, he'd be trained by a professional. He'd be getting the most out of training from someone that had so much experience. Potentially, He could get even better training in these two days from Qrow than he could in three weeks from his Oum awful _'partner'_.

"Got it. So what should I look out for when we get out onto the streets? I'd imagine the people here would try to pickpocket me of our Credits." Jaune asked as they were nearing the exit of The Arena. Qrow huffed before shaking his head.

"That is just an overused stereotype that just get's everyone so paranoid of every little street corner." Qrow said, shaking his head at Jaune's inquiry. Though, after a few seconds, Qrow stopped to turn around and gave the young man a deadpan stare.

"But that doesn't mean that it's not all true. Because it is. So just hand over the bag so I can take care of it. I've been around here too, so I know what to look out for. Just stick close to me, and don't say anything. And keep that brand on your neck hidden. I don't think too many people would be privy to letting you go peacefully since you're a descendant of Vlad." Qrow said as they finally exited the building.

As soon as they were out of the complex, Jaune could instantly see that the plaza just twenty feet away was busy with shady activity. The shops and stands went on for miles. He couldn't see the end of it. Though, very far away from where they were, he could see a sort of cave wall. And looking up, he could see a ceiling. Albeit nearly completely obstructed by darkness, but still a ceiling. It seemed that the Underworld was indeed underground.

Jaune simply nodded, just going along with what Qrow said and handing him the Credits, knowing that anything he said out here could attract attention to them. He knew that Qrow could get them to where they needed to go with relative safety.

As they both made their way through the crowd, Jaune could already tell that there were a few people that were shooting him quick glances. He hoped that he was hiding his Brand well enough that they wouldn't be able to see it, but was prepared for if they did. Qrow was the same, being prepared to draw his blade and kill anyone that decided to try and rob them or just try to maim the one person that was despised by near everyone.

However, what neither of them knew, was that Mr. 5 had ordered that nobody consider touching the two Gladiators for the simple reason that Mr. 1 wanted him alive. And no one was willing to even think about disobeying an order from him. Those quick glances were all cut short due to the fact that they feared that even looking at him would bring forth the wrath of one of the Big Five. Even now, they could feel that Mr. 5 was spying on them, observing their every move.

After all, he had eyes and ears _everywhere._

* * *

"We're almost there." Qrow spoke up as they neared a rather worn looking building. They had entered what would be considered the Slums of the Underworld. Everything looked like it had been abandoned. That, or the only things inhabiting the building would be rats. Both metaphorical and literal. This building was only slightly better because it had a rather decent looking sign at the front with a warm glow coming from within the building. With the sign reading 'Godot's Forge'. Jaune stayed silent like he had for the entirety of the walk. Admittedly, it wasn't that far away, though for what it was worth, Jaune hadn't stopped trying to find out ways to escape from here. Qrow had informed him on the way here that there was only two ways in or out of here. And both were very narrow pathways that were heavily guarded and ready to collapse should anyone try to get out without permission. So that was a no go on that part, but everything came in good time. They were heading in.

"Is this Godot the friend you mentioned?" Jaune asked finally as they entered what looked to be the front of a shop. The floor was worn, and dusty like it hadn't been cleaned in years, but had little in terms of clutter. The walls were lined with some weapons that were rusted and even chipped. To Jaune, who was apparently going to be outfitted with gear like that, was less than impressed with it.

"Yeah, went to him when I was a Gladiator. Back then, this place wasn't such a dump. It was still a trash heap for sure, but at least this place had some activity going on." Qrow mentioned as he looked around and frowned at how worn this place had gotten since he last came here. Though, he did kind of chuckle at the weapons on the walls.

"Also, before you start thinking that those things up there are his, then I'm going to have to stop you right there. You see, those weapons weren't made by him. Those were from Gladiators who thought that their own blacksmiths were better than him and tested their weapons on his. Evidently, they weren't up to snuff." Qrow said as he walked up to the counter of the shop and knocked on the hard wood. Jaune quickly looked to him for a moment before looking back up to the weapons displayed on the walls with a new perspective. Eyeing one particular mace that looked like it had to have shattered on whatever it had been tested on.

 _'That's a lot of damage.'_

"Hey, Godot! It's me, Qrow! You still alive old man!?" Qrow called out as his voice echoed off the partially empty walls of the building. There was no answer for a moment before there was a glimmer of movement from the darkness of the shop. Qrow was quick enough to pull out his sword and deflect it before it had the chance to pierce through Jaune's throat. Jaune had been caught off guard by the sudden attempt at his life before more bolts had flown out from within the dark hallway. Each one had been deflected by Qrow until there was a sudden sound of wood snapping and a curse soon after.

Jaune was rather confused at what just happened before he tried to turn to Qrow for an answer but just found the older gentleman with a large smirk across his face as he sheathed his weapon once again.

There was a set of heavy footsteps from where the bolts had come from along with the sounds of a contraption being fiddled with before a figure came into the light, revealing an aged man with dark grey hair. He only wore a purple bandanna and violet rags that he used to cover up his lower body. In his heavily calloused hands was a crossbow that had it's wood splintered in various places along with it's string broken. He looked rather disgruntled as he looked over the weapon, trying to find out what went wrong with it before he looked to Qrow and let out a rather deep sigh.

"You know, I was contempt that you stopped coming here, Qrow. I thought that you had finally died and that you would stop plaguing me with that dreaded Semblance of yours. Now what do you want?" The old man said as he placed the broken weapon down on the counter. Qrow just gave him this huge, shit eating grin on his face.

"I missed you too, Godot. But you know, lately, I've been a little busy trying to save my own skin. And wouldn't you know it? I couldn't fit you into my schedule." Qrow said with an overly cheery expression. Godot was not amused with the used-to-be Huntsman and instead changed his focus on Jaune. Or more accurately, the brand on his neck. There was a rather pointed stare that he gained as he narrowed his eyes. Qrow noticed this immediately and grew rather worried. If there was one thing that Godot had absolutely refused to talk about, it was anything related to Vlad. However. before Qrow could say anything, Godot had leaned on the counter and spoke to Jaune directly.

"What the hell are _you_ of all people doing down here?" Godot asked with a slightly heated tone. Jaune was taken slightly aback at the question. He spoke as if he knew him before he was sent down here.

"I...wha-" Jaune tried to get out before Godot held up a hand with closed eyes before that same hand turned into an accusing finger pointing at him.

"I mean your however-many-greats grandfather had made **damn** sure that none of his family would have to even _think_ about this place. Yet here you are, in the exact position he was when he was down here in my shop. So I ask again, what are you doing down here?" Godot asked in a grave voice. Jaune stood there for a moment before looking to Qrow. The older man sent him a quick look before trying to answer for him.

"Godot, the kid told me that-" Qrow began before Godot once again cut to the chase.

"Shut up you Old Bird. He can speak for himself. Let him speak." Godot commanded, leaving no room for argument. Qrow just sent Jaune a sympathetic look before backing off. Jaune looked from him to Godot and sucked in a breath before explaining his situation.

"To put it short, I was tossed into a Kangaroo Court and was sent here." Jaune said, not wanting to talk about everything that happened again. Godot stared at him for a while before slowly nodding. He stood up strait and cracked his neck.

"If that's the case, then you're here to get some armor improvements. Follow me and I can get you some quality equipment." Godot stated as he moved back to the dark hallway he emerged from. Qrow pushed off the wall that he had been leaning on and gestured for Jaune to follow him. The blonde hesitated for a moment before quickly falling in line. Though he did wonder why this Godot character had claimed that he knew of his ancestor like he had met him personally. So many questions...

* * *

"Mind filling me in on what happened to this place, Godot?" Qrow asked as he followed the blacksmith through the building. Godot grunted at the comment, not too thrilled about having to explain what happened to his forge.

"The 'Oh So Great' Big Five had pulled funding from this district to pay for more Gladiators. Most people moved out and moved inwards towards The Arena, or simply got killed off by low life scum. But since I'm not an idiot, I've been able to hold up this place for a while. The rats out there are starting to learn that they won't get a thing out of me." Godot stated, feeling rather miffed at remembering those five dickheads that run the Underground. Qrow chuckled a little bit, knowing that while the old man was...old, he was far from helpless. You cant be one of the greatest blacksmiths to ever live by being scrawny.

"Godot, your the only person I know that has the balls to talk like that about the Big Five. But in all seriousness, I need a tune up on my weapon. She's built up a lot of rust since the last time I used her." Qrow stated as he brought his weapon for Godot to inspect. The man turned to him before taking the weapon and using his keen eyes to see what exactly it was that he was working with. But of course, he needed to make a witty remark before he did this.

"That's not the only thing that gained rust you dusty old crow. I could have killed you at least ten different times before you even stepped foot in my shop. You obviously haven't been keeping up with your training." Godot said as he Walked down a set a stairs with the other two in tow. Qrow sighed at that, knowing that to be the truth. He hadn't seen a single fight since he got forcibly retired from Gladiator work. However, now that he needed to get back out there, he needed to start training as soon as possible. He figured that the next match would be a good way to shave off that rust.

"As for the kid, I know exactly what he needs. A damn meal. He looks like a mere breeze would snap him in two. Judging by the prosthetics, That breeze already passed by." Godot stated, setting the weapon in his hands down onto a work bench after they entered what looked to be his main forge. He turned to face them and gestured to Jaune's rather lanky limbs. Jaune was a little angry at the remark, but couldn't do anything to refute it. The only reason he lived through his first match was because of his huge Aura pools, and extreme luck.

"So do you think you could whip something up that's on the lighter side?" Qrow asked as he looked around the place. It was used, of course, but It looked like it had been slowly wearing down over the years. He felt sad for the place. He did. He kind of enjoyed coming here to get his gear fixed. It felt like another home down here in this hellish place.

"I could. It'd only take me around a day's work." Godot stated as he readied the materials for the job he was given. Qrow nodded in appreciation before going to take the sack of Credits and waiting for the amount that they would have to pay. However, Godot once again held up a hand.

"Don't. I'll give you two a freebie this one time." Godot said while he started to get everything in his forge set up. Qrow eyed him skeptically. Godot never gave anyone 'freebies'. Not even in his best of moods. And he was always rather grumpy for whatever reason anyways so...what gives?

"Why?" Qrow asked with a wary expression. Godot took a breath to answer after moving an exceptionally heavy box that carried some of his tools next to his work station so he could work on the old Huntsman's weapon.

"I owe _his_ ancestor a whole lot of favors and I want to get everything squared out. I hate owing people." Godot stated as he briefly pointed to Jaune before heading back to work. It made Jaune take a step back out of how outrageous that sounded before voicing his thoughts.

"God damn it! You talk like you knew him personally or even met him! How do you know my ancestor old man!?" Jaune exclaimed as his voice was heard clear as day. For a moment, It was silent. Godot almost seemed to not have even payed attention to him. It made Jaune's blood boil and he was going to shout at him again before Godot finally spoke up.

"I speak like I met him because I _have_ meet him." Godot revealed, making Jaune pause. That's bull crap. Vladimir had lived over two hundred years ago. The average human lifespan isn't even half of that! So how could this man have lived so long as to meet his ancestor. He couldn't. That's how.

"Bullshit. You expect me to believe that you are well over two hundred years old? Yeah right." Jaune accused, shaking his head at the obviously crazy old man. He turned to leave before Qrow caught him by the collar and kept him in place.

"He can if his Semblance allows him to reduce the aging of both living and nonliving objects." Qrow stated as he let go of Jaune's shirt once he was sure he was going to stay in place. Jaune only took a moment to process the information before he realized that a Semblance like that could actually be used to slow down the aging process of a person to actually live past two hundred. He turned around to see that Godot still hadn't turned away from his work.

"If that's true, then...you actually did meet him." Jaune said slowly. He already had a few questions that he wanted-no, he **needed** answered. However, before either Qrow or Jaune could speak further, Godot quickly looked from his work to a far wall with a crude looking clock on it and then back to his work.

"You two need to get going. Curfew for Gladiators is approaching. If they catch you out after curfew, you won't live long enough to see your next match, let along getting out of here. Your gear will be ready come tomorrow afternoon. So leave. Now." Godot demanded, still not turning to look at them. Qrow winced at the mention of the curfew. He knew what The Patrol did to people who they caught staying out after curfew. Not pretty.

"Come on Jaune. Let's go." Qrow said as he started walking out of the building. Jaune looked to him for a moment before looking back to Godot. He needed to ask him about his ancestor. However, before he could get another word out, Godot interrupted him one last time.

"Questions regarding the last Arc that was here can wait until tomorrow. The only thing that I can tell you right now, is to count on the worst." Godot said before going back to work. And from the looks of it, he didn't intend on speaking any further. Jaune stood there for a moment before Qrow came back and physically guided him out of the shop. He really didn't want to face any of The Patrol right now. Especially not without his weapon.

As they made their way back to their shared cell, Jaune couldn't help but linger on those last few words he was given.

 _'Count on the worst huh? I think I can manage that."_ Jaune thought as they finally made it back. The Guard closed and locked the door behind them and left them to silence. Qrow went over to the place he hid his weapon and stashed their Credits there before putting the brick back in place.

"Alright kid, let's hit the hay. Since we didn't have to spend anything today, we can go out and get some better prosthetics for you tomorrow. Though, the brand on your neck might cause us some trouble, we'll see what we can do in the morning. For now, get some rest." Qrow stated as he tried to get comfortable on the dirty brick floor. Jaune did the same, laying against the cell wall and closing his eyes. He'd worry about everything tomorrow. He had a long day, and needed his rest. As he slipped into unconsciousness, he dreamed of massacring all of Teams RWBY and JNPR with Qrow by his side, holding Ozpin by the throat, and curiously enough, a rather short woman of pink, white and brown that was running a sword through his old partner.

No dream had been so sweet before.

* * *

 **Alright, so this came out a** _little_ **bit later than I intended. And admittedly, also nothing to brag about. However, I did want to put something that was at least decent. In lighter news, I'll probably update sooner than this time. Probably. And it will most likely be In The Right Hands. So until then, I'll see you next time. Toodles~!**


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